My last week

When Adam woke me up this morning, he welcomed me to the last Monday that I'll be at work hungover. 

It's actually not that bad today; I took it a little easier yesterday because of Saturday night, but I'll get to that.  I still stayed up way too late last night, though -- on some of that, I'll blame our neighbors, but the rest of it is due to the "bullshit half-cocktail" phenomenon. 

I'm excited to go shopping for our camping trip this weekend.  We're still going, despite Easter.  We'll just come back early on Sunday and learn to love the blue laws. 

Saturday, I opened the bar at five and continued drinking until about three in the morning.  At first I was just at home, watching re-runs on Netflix, but then I showered and joined a friend of mine for a midnight movie showing -- but first, we were at her apartment, where we killed a bottle of wine in about five minutes.  The theater we went to had a bar, and I had at least (?) two vodka tonic doubles, which were strong but eight fucking dollars apiece.  After the movie, we went to a nearby bar, where the martini I had was the straw on the camel's back.  It totally knocked me on my ass.

We walked back to her place -- on the way, I peed behind a van -- and she got really stubborn about me driving home, even though it was only a few blocks and all I'd have to make was a right turn.  I hate spending a night away from Adam, so I called him at 3 a.m. and he wasn't super happy about it, but he picked me up.  We didn't tell my friend that, by that time, he was probably as drunk as I was. 

Sunday, I woke up with the worst hangover I'd had in a long time.  I was still feeling bad by 5-6 p.m. -- despite sleeping in, despite eating, despite an entire quart of Powerade -- so I made myself some hair of the dog and felt a bit better.  Adam said he's done with hangovers.  We're looking forward to our trip.  I'm looking forward to losing weight.

On a side note, I noticed that my friend from Saturday night has complained about menstrual cramps twice since the last time I've had to bother with it.  I've got indigestion, nausea, and a weird sense of smell.  Things are smelling weird.  Like, my cup of ice next to me smells like infection.  Seriously, it smells like pus.  (Sorry to anyone reading this.  I read this over again, and thinking about the smell of an infected wound definitely makes me want to hurl.)  And on Saturday, my friend and I were sitting near a trash can in the theater, and someone tossed a bit of trash in when they walked by.  The trash they threw in smelled like some kind of food, and I almost threw up.  I had to look at the ceiling.

I've been pregnant twice, and neither of those times resulted in a baby, unfortunately.  So I don't get my hopes up.  But the first time I was pregnant, I was at a fast food place with Adam, and I nearly threw up when I saw a blob of ketchup in the soda area trough.  I don't know what it was that sickened me, but seeing that ketchup covered in soda really didn't sit well with me (and I'm pretty sure we hadn't found out about the pregnancy yet).  Oh, and I had fucking insane heartburn -- I didn't know what it was at first because I'd never had heartburn in my life, and now I get heartburn from PMS every single month.  The second time I was pregnant, I would dry heave whenever I got too emotional -- I remember one time when Adam and I were having an argument in the car, and right as he pulled up to the house, I jumped out and ran inside to the bathroom.  He came in the house, saying, "Oh, real mature, just jump out of the car like tha-- oh shit, are you okay?"  Me:  "ughghghghghgh no more fighting, the baby doesn't like it..."  Then we went to McDonald's, with him saying, "Let's get you a nugget for your nugget."

I was already drinking somewhat heavily by the time I got pregnant the first time.  Losing both babies is probably a factor in reasons why I continued to drink heavily. 

Anyway, it could be PMS, or it could be Adam Jr.  But man, my cup of ice smells terrible.


EDIT:  Took a test; not pregnant.  Adam said, "Sorry, baby," and I said "meh."  Adam:  "Meh?  Really?  Okay, then it's meh.  Let's have a good day."  (I usually get pretty upset when I find out I'm not pregnant... but with him out of a job and us not sober yet... yep, I'd say it'd be bad fucking timing.)