Revelation 21

My sailor ships out tomorrow. And no word.

To Mexico. "Where the women are cheap and the beer is cold," he wrote earlier this week.

I wrote back, "May you score una mexicana o dos entonces."

Some nights you think, This is one of those nights when you're never gonna get drunk. And then, Wham! You think, Shit, i'm drunk.

OK, that didn't come out very intelligent. But you catch my drift.

I've laid off alcohol and medication since Monday night. I didn't like the way i'd been feeling. It was like the two fed each other; I'm not sure. A couple of days later, i understand why JD doesn't blog. You feel many things all at once, yet you feel nothing. It's very zen. In essence, you become the queen of paradoxes. No offense to JD.

My sailor either has a vulnerable side that is buried deep down, or he plainly is JUST AN ASS. Either way, i can't afford to explore.

Off the meds, i'm afraid. To do anything. To even make a drink. But i do anyway, to quelch the stupid churning in my stomach. Withdrawal symptoms, i see.

Earlier today, Denisse celebrated the end of the work day by texting, "Freedom! Woo hoo!"

In response, i punched:

i think freedom is the key ingredient in weekend happiness. No wonder i'm miserable M-F. LOL