Good Morning

A typical morning, I’ve slept well through my blaring alarm clock again and have no real recollection of how the previous night ended. I'm pretty much always blackout now, for some reason I feel guilty about it though I’ve never been able to figure out why. Since I’ve taken to drinking alone at home over the past few months there aren’t any victims of my haphazard behavior, save my dog the silent witness to my bumbling stupidity. I’m happy to see I remembered to let her back in before I passed out. She’s a good dog, knows to let me sleep when I smell of booze.

Today’s hangover is mild at worst, just some minor dehydration and some neck cramps from the awkward position I passed out in. Surprisingly I actually managed to put on proper sleeping attire, sweat shorts and a t-shirt. Far too often I wake up either still in my suit from the office or completely buck naked. I used to not make it to the bedroom, coming to in random rooms through out the house but lately I’ve been making it to the bed.

I look at the still blaring alarm clock to see how late I am for work, 10:02am –shit- they’re damn sure going to notice. I reach over to the hollowed out leather ottoman on to the right of my bed, I keep it filled with bottles of Gatorade to balance out the dehydration. I've yet to take to a.m. drinking. It looks like I’ve already opened one bottle during the night, I guess that explains why my hangover is only minor.

I’ve never been a fan of hangovers; luckily I don’t get them very often. It’s a shame maybe if I did I wouldn’t have become such a drunk. My father would always get them. I remember hearing him vomit every morning after a night at bars when I was a kid. Strange that never deterred me from drinking, just from sticking my head in toilets.

Rehydrated I jump into the shower with a mouth full of Listerine. It’s bad enough going in late it would be worse the go in late still smelling of rum. The shower is refreshing and after a few quick swipes of a razor and stick of deodorant I’m ready to pass a competent human being. Shirt tucked and tie straighted I grab my keys, my flask and my cellphone. Ready for work. I walk out the door to see the parking lot is full, one neighbor is mowing the lawn another is gardening while her kids play in the street.

FUCK – it’s Sunday.