This past weekend was spent reveling in the glory of a holiday weekend. Also, we got to get together at my step-brother’s house to celebrate my stepmom’s b’day. I had access to a pool, good food and a deeeeeelightful cocktail that my sister-in-law makes. I don’t think it has a name, so I’m just gonna start calling them Diana-slammers. You get a tumbler of ice, pour in a healthy dose of Malibu black rum, a dash of pineapple juice and some V-8 diet fruit blend fusion stuff. They go down reeeeaaaaallll easy. Our get-together started around 1:00 in the afternoon. We played around in the pool, grilled some burgers and dogs…and I had about eleventy-five Diana-slammers. Around 6:30 or so, we gathered our things, Jeff poured me into the van and we went on back to the homestead. I had a whole Diana-slammer to enjoy once I got back to the house….so I did. I got my Kindle, my little fan that I take outside with me on humid nights, my folded blanket, my phone and settled in to read a little while. About an hour later, I decide that it would be a great idea if I went to bed super, super early so that I’d feel invigorated and refreshed and would have the energy to cajole my family to go to church! I’d finished my eleventy-sixth cocktail by this point, and went inside to get me an Ambien and a glass of wine. You know, to wash the Ambien down with.
Fast forward to 9:30 the next morning. I wake up (actually feeling quite spry, which is a little surprising, considering) and go downstairs. I find a neat little stack consisting of my Kindle, some Kleenex, my phone and a cigarette pack sitting on the kitchen counter. “Hmmm…” I think to myself, “now why didn’t I plug up my Kindle or my phone last night?” APPARENTLY, Jeff had come upstairs around 8:30 and found me passed out on our bed…with toenail clippers in my hand and, he claims, toe nail clippings all over the comforter. I really don’t remember making any decision to pedicure myself AT ALL. But my toenails were indeed clipped (BRUTALLY in a couple of places) and I’m just thankful that he was kind enough to gather all of my stuff up off of the front porch before going to bed. In the future, I will have to remember not to mix Diana-slammers with my drugs.