My Take on Getting Hammered
I posted this story a while back on Facebook, but it recently came up in conversation with a friend of mine. People who know me well know that I very rarely drink. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love going out, dancing like there’s no tomorrow, taking 8,000 pictures, and making my late night Taco Bell/Muchas run. I don’t need to drink to have fun. I’ll indulge in some fruity (and/or undeniably stiff) cocktail once in a blue moon, but the idea of getting schmammered so hard that I can’t function for another 24-48 hours just doesn’t seem like time well spent. There are only so many hours in a day, and feeling like death the morning after just isn’t the best use of my time. I want to live in the now, so I will.