Musings of a Lost weekend and beyond

It is Monday afternoon and I have the motivation of an ameba, or what I assume a ameba would be motivated to do, I can’t remember all the laws of photosynthesis, or if it is even involved, but I currently feel like lying down and taking a long nap. To say I drank this weekend would be to say the Mississippi has crooked letters.
It didn’t start out that way, I had two doctor appointments, one for the monthly allergy shot, the other for the Diabetes doctor. I also needed to get the oil changed, measured for work boots and make a movie (Jackass 3-D), and get smokes at the Reservation shop, all before 5:00. I got the smokes around noon, fought the temptation to get the Hooch right away. Then I hit the traffic scene and I swear to DOG all the city seemed to want an early start to the weekend, traffic crawled, I moved slowly.
I tried to get to the Oil change Depot for lazy guys, but It would take me beyond the deadline so I got the shot, got the updates on the friend’s family (the shot nurse married an old friend of mine, and we became friends, nice gal, glad my friend has someone to keep him warm) , I RACED TO GET ACROSS TOWN, it was 12 miles in between centers, and once again Traffic crawled. The Old center for the feeble handed had too many cars in front so I would have to wait for the oil change. The meeting with the Diabetes doctor went real well, I’m comfortably under 250 for the first time in years and my A1C is 5.6 which on the official A1c chart is a happy face in green
I got to the Hazmat oil exchange program and got the oil changed, it also appeared that the entire staff spent several thousand dollars on Tattoos; I guess I’m fortunate I missed that cultural movement. I was approx 12 miles away from the theater and I drove like a mad man, but I saw I would be late. So I eased up, got there ½ hour before the next showing started. Got my large Cherry Soda and popcorn, took my Metformin, grabbed an aisle seat. Jackass 3-d is really funny, cringe worthy funny, the the 3-d effects make it seem like the stunts are floating in space. I only almost hurled once, I had visions of popcorn vomit sailing through the air onto the empty seat, and I thought it would be a better visual than Green pea soup.
Anyway it was good to get out to see a movie, I left the phone off and drove as the sun set, and headed to the store to buy the hooch at the local market, I opted for the silky smooth flavor of Black Velvet, 1.5 liter size, which is a lot of booze.
That much booze didn’t bug me too much when I weighed 280, but at 240 I notice the difference on Sunday, but I ignored the warning, and headed home-turned on my phone and it rang and rang , the DA was on the front lawn screaming screeching scheming-“thought you dead”, “the thoughtful Drug Dealer isn’t so thoughtful”, “I need money, I didn’t know where you were” I counter “I had a really fun time tonight, first time in over a year” “ Yaaaaaaaaaaa , money money money, (at this point I might point out I had a flashback to my sisters and nieces when they were about 10 and they wanted a few dollars they would scream this ear piercing noise that made the fuzz on my ball stand up, and the flattop stand straight up, little different with the nieces, but scary feeling on the spine)
I gave her 40.00 and her demeanor changed immediately, I did not stick around to findout, it was dark and I had my first whisky and coke of the night, the DA made her deal and wanted the rest of m popcorn (I only ate half, finished most of my soda, but I pissed it out after the movie which is not nearly as gross as some of the stunts, the sweat of the big guy was uber gross, how I kept it in is amazing)

Of course nothing last forever, the DA came over before the cocktail hour was over and proclaimed “I have been ripped off, can I have another 40.00”
Um…. NO
I was then unfair, unkind, uncola even, I slammed my next drink and the rest of the weekend until Sunday morning is a blur of images, I had about 5 drinks left and I finished them as I watched the political channels, and I am appalled what passes for political thinking. I felt ok, ate the last of the Chile Stew I made earlier, went to bed. Woke up feeling like utter ell, like I finally crossed the line and drank to much, sick beyond sick, I slept very badly, enjoyed the “great race” despite having a bubble of bile in my stomach waiting to rise up and my puking like it was 1977
I got by, took for another 20 on Monday and still felt bad, more about the hospital trip for the DA, the Cat and I bond, a very cross DA yells and yells