I'm fairly certain I showed up to set class drunk this morning.
I stayed out way too late last night kanoodling with family, shooting vodka and making sex time with the husband.
At five o'clock this morning as I was driving to the gym, questioning my sobriety and pondering my blood alcohol level I came to the harsh conclusion that I'm not a spring chicken anymore.
6 hours of sleep and blowing a .08 on a breathalizer before running 3 miles in the morning was my personal normal a few years ago.
Now I'm knocking on the late 20's door begging for 8 solid hours of sleep, 4-6 servings of vegetables a day and seeking out a good night cream.
Getting older is blowing my figurative balls.
Speaking of getting older, it's the husbands Birthday week!
I'm throwing him a conspiracy theory party. Complete with an alien cake and UFO cupcakes and tinfoil hats so the aliens and government can't read our minds.
Shit's gonna be off the chiiizzzain.
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You should probably be aware that this blog features an unnecessarily copious amount of profanity, so if you're easily offended by that sort of thing then this would be a good time for you to turn off your computer.
