Wake up in the morning (not feeling like P.Diddy) and my first thought is “dress cute.” If I start the day with a shower, actually flat iron my hair, and put on some potentially “feel good” outfit, the chances of me going out later go up significantly. If I am already dressed and with make-up, at least that will be not an excuse I can use to sit at home with a bottle of wine and Netflix.
I go about my day – a day that includes a midterm that basically reads “quote the textbook to get an A.” Cue massive migraine. Cue reason to get not a triple, but a QUADROOPLE espresso shot latte, that also conveniently has honey in it. 2 PM and I am feeling over-sugared, over-caffeinated, and GOOD. Can’t wait to go out later and celebrate that midterm being over. I’ve earned it.
Head home from classes and make dinner still in cute outfit, boots on and all. Reward myself with a large bowl of pasta because just as swimmers like to carbo-load before a big meet, I like to believe my brain needs to carbo-load after a big midterm. I mean, I just exercised. Hard.
That could also be the caffeine talking – considering its jacked my metabolism through the roof and even though my bike ride home was only three blocks, I have managed to sweat through my “cute dress.”
So while pasta boils I change into yoga pants, leaving dress in visible sight to remind me that I already have an outfit picked out for tonight – another excuse I will not have to just stay in with wine and Netflix.
Cue eating an obscene amount of pasta and lie on couch in agony and curse the food baby that now lives inside me. Now I am thinking there is absolutely no way on the face of this planet that I could even get drunk. But it’s only 8 PM, so maybe things will settle and the idea of having a beer won’t make me wanna spew.
Text mahhh gurrlzzz to see what the plan is. Receive various responses like “gotta eat first, then I’ll let you know.” Or “just come over and we will go from there.”
Seeing as I may be playing the waiting game for a bit, it only seems fitting to take off my bra while I wait. Complete and utter relaxation immediately follows and then before I know it I am laying in bed while playing the waiting game.
I am still really full. There is no way I am getting drunk tonight even if I wanted to.
Begin to look at my schedule for tomorrow. I do have class… not that that ever stopped me before.
Ya know, let’s see just how much time I have before class starts. The demon alarm on my phone has a feature that tells you exactly how many hours you have until your alarm goes off when you set it, reminding you of how pathetic your sleep time actually will be. I set my alarm for the next day, just on the off chance my food baby subsides and I actually get drunk and I forget to set it. My phone reads “Your alarm is set for 10 hours and 6 minutes from now.”
10 HOURS?!?!?!?!? I need to go to bed now. I need those 10 hours badly. All 10 of um. Right? Yes. 10. I need those full 10 hours.
Receive the text I have now been dreading since I originally sent the first text begging the girls to go out with me.
“Hey! We are ready to go! What are you wearing? Come over now!”
What am I wearing…? Well…currently I am braless…and about 15 minutes earlier I decided that the yoga pants were cutting off circulation to my food baby and I just removed the barrier all together. Next, I check the weather. The temperature is rapidly dropping 10 degrees a minute, or so it seems. And given the fact that I have not consumed any alcohol at this point, it will probably feel way colder than it actually is. My cute outfit will go to shit when I have to cover it up with four North Face fleeces.
Then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Yikes. Is that pencil on my forehead? From when I put my head down on the exam hoping it would end soon? Have I really been walking around all day with pencil on my forehead?
10:32 PM. Bra-less, pants-less, pasta food baby, and only 10 hours until my alarm is going off.
Ya, Netflix and wine seems like the right choice here.
But honestly, moving from this bed to even retrieve the wine would be quite difficult at this point. Hell, I can’t believe I even have to get up and turn off the light. Where is the clapper feature when ya need one???
10:35, lights off and in bed.
Wait. I forgot to brush my teeth.