Longing for Days of Yesteryear

I awoke this morning feeling pretty much how I always feel after a hard night's drinking these days: like a victim of the black death. It's a hangover quite hard to describe for those who aren't familiar with the hangover from hell. My innards feel like buzzards are eating them, my brain functions like an emo kid, and my digestive track does absolutely nothing because I'm pretty sure it thinks I'm deceased. As a direct result of this, today I spent nearly 50% of my time at my office job hiding in the basement bathroom vomiting up pleasantries; I have chosen to neglect my academic responsibilities for the day for my own health as well as for the well being of any students who might have been in my close proximity had I chosen to go to class.

Sadly, these days have become the norm in my hard-drinking lifestyle.

Back in high school, when I was but an alcoholic with training wheels, I drank just about every night. The next day, I drank a water bottle in my first class, and I was pretty much fine by the 3rd class of the day. Even freshman year, when Al and I were blossoming drunks, drinking practically every night, I was always able to make it to class the next day. Oh, those were the days. A life in BOX has completely and utterly destroyed what once was, though. Will this ever stop me from living the dream? Certainly, no, but it might slow me down from time to time.

What I wouldn't do to have those freshman year hangovers nowadays.

Or maybe I just need a drink.

Side note: What seems to be every Sunday, I tell myself (and actually believe myself) that this will be the week that I go to every class and do all my work. Time and time again, I wind up blackout drunk on Tuesday and proceed to neglect most of the rest of the week. Today, I tried to tell myself I would finally get serious about this semester. Then I remembered that the Olympics start Friday and that there will not be a shred of dignity in this house for the next 2 weeks.