Who needs the party when you can get the hangover for free?

8 Sep

Ah, FMS. You’re such a partymonster. You make me fumble my words, stumble my feet, and forget my intentions. You make my head sleepy and my limbs heavy, my stomach nauseous and my body sore. The meds you’d have me take require me to find a designated driver. You’re fickle – one minute I’m fine, the next minute I’m on the floor. Make up your mind, would you?

“How did I get that bruise? Who knows.”

“I don’t remember saying that. Oh, well, if you say so.”

“…When I ran into that door frame – yeah, that was a riot.”

Who needs the party when you can get the hangover for free?

Gentle hugs,
Chels

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