I've Got To Stop Drinking

This is getting to be overwhelming. My senses have spent the last few days on overload. Too many smells, tastes, touches, sounds, and substances imbibed. I am losing focus. This body is out of control.

"What's the best way to get control of your body, HellCat?" you're asking.

"Gotta be texting." I respond, slurring my words and pushing my fallen bra strap back onto my shoulder. Then, I think better of it and push it back down and smile.

This is getting to be a problem.

I feel like the brevity and wit required to text is what makes it genius. I don't buy into any of that "What's up?" shit. I prefer to send texts like, "We should be hitting it right now," or "You know what's great about clowns? Pancake makeup." No sir, no normal texts from me. I pride myself on this.

I think that I am best represented by my text messages. So much so, in fact, that I send texts to people that can't even receive them, just so I can say something better than I would when facing the person. At least my Outbox knows I'm smart and apologetic and sassy and cute, depending on who I'm talking to.

So tonight I am back from a night of poker with new friends. I had a shot of Cousin Jim. I feel funny inside. And I am pacing back and forth, when I should be sleeping, wishing that something was happening right now. I mean, something besides "Just Shoot Me" being on the telley. I am no stanger to sleepless nights these days, so don't mistake me for someone who needs some excitement in their life. No, I just am slipping into Princess Mode and I want something NOW.

So, on nights like these, the texts start. Sometimes I text everyone I can think of, soliciting their ideas, bodies, or laughs. I believe that this is both alarmingly brilliant and pathetic. I look at my cell phone and admire it, although the love is colored slightly by my own sense of dread.

Dread that I am not going to get through this night.

I have got to stop drinking.

None of this makes any sense.

Good thing Brother Jack wasn't around.

ring me. g