pudding

so i attempted to get drunk, but all i got was buzzy and a little bit sick to my stomach. that is what you get for mixing rum punch with pizza, cookies, and cake. i am so tired, the boys are watching snatch in the living room. i'm just not in the mood for it. maybe its because i didn't take my meds today, you aren't supposed to mix them with alcohol anyway so i figured there was little point. i hope joe is enjoying his birthday party, he seems to be. there weren't as many people as i would have liked there to have been, but the ones that were able to come appear to be having a good time. i would have liked for all of his friends to have been able to be here, but scheduling is a bitch and its almost impossible to coordinate 10+ schedules on short notice. it is fucking cold in here, we turned the ac on so that it wouldn't get too hot with the oven running and all that business. this place heats up pretty quick. i don't know. i feel really listless, and not good for anything. i fucked up like a million times at work today, the only high point was that i made good money and my conversation skills are getting better when it comes to the customers. i thought the cooks were ready to ring my neck for all the fucking up i did. i would have deserved it too. i come out of that job everyday wonder why the hell i'm waiting tables. i'm lousy at it, other people tell me i'm not, but i think i am. i wouldn't be able to explain being covered in gravy, ketchup, soda and grease, fucking up orders and drinks any other way. being lousy at it seems to cover all my mishaps. looking forward to my tattoo hardcore. change your look, change your life. thats my little motto anyway. if nothing else it is the precedent i have set. i''m just cold, and tired, that pretty much sums it up. oh, and i have to work tomorrow, go me.