The devil gets drunk on Mondays.

This morning I woke up and my water was off....again. It's almost comical at this point. Unfortunately though because I haven't stayed at home the last few nights I had forgotten that this hell was actually a reality, which means I was without my emergency bottles of water! To make matters even worse it felt like the Sahara Desert in my esophagus and the only things immediately available to me were a few bottles of some nasty lemon cleanse, my emergency bottle of orange soda and my emergency bottle of wine.

The moral of this story is that I drank wine for breakfast. Which made drinking mimosas at brunch on a Monday feel that much less inappropriate....

Sometimes I start a blog post and realize that I don't have anything of any importance to say aside from the fact that I wanted to point out I drank a lot before 11 today. Is that a bad sign?

Oh well, here is a selfie I took at work....I like it because I look like satan (also...chubby hands?) Enjoy. You can tell it's nearing the end of the work day because all my hair has gone north and made it's way into a giant disastrous storm of red and gold.I like to call it my, "Look how much hair I can pile on top of my head!" look...looking at it, it really shows off my ginormous forehead and my giant chicken pox scar that sits in the middle of said ginormous forehead and draws even more attention to ginormous forehead....I have a big forehead. Could be worse though, my brother has a huge forehead AND he's balding...so really I win in this genetic lottery.

Whilst going to find this photo I found this other photo I took today. My coworker was very upset that he didn't have any important, work related paperwork in his mailbox, leaving said mailbox empty and alone....I died.

Lastly, my dad doesn't support mine and George Clooney's deep and real love so I had to end the relationship...it honestly broke my heart.

I've always been very fond of you Dad...you will be missed.

Saturday's.

For the past month my Saturday's have been freakishly identical. They start with a fury as my brain convulses and withers from alcohol induced dehydration. I then proceed to make an inner pact to never, ever drink again. This pact is then swiftly broken by a walk of shame to my favorite brunch spot for Mimosa's and Red Velvet Waffles (aka my everything) with my favorite gals to recap on what the hell happened last night.  I then resist the urge to throw up as I come home to lay on my roof for approximately two hours, by then a sufficient amount of time has passed for me to devour more food.

See: Dordy's beer belly is hungry. 

Never leave my alone.

I then Netflix for a few (see: Five) hours, before getting ready and doing it all over again. It's a glorious little tradition I have started with myself and aside from the unfortunate fact that I have to work next Saturday (….what is this bullshit?!?!!) I never want it to end. 

Side note:

Kitty has developed a weird habit of sneaking up on me. Exhibit A: Peeing.

Add this to her little freak list of hobbies next to Nipple Licking...