Unlike most people, I easily consider Saturday as the worst day of the week. Allow me to explain. Due to the nature of my job, I have to hack through a work week that begins on a Tuesday and ends on Saturday. Now this would've been fine except for the fact that NOT drinking on a Friday night(A work night for me), much like NOT calling a sexual partner derogatory names or screaming profanities at her, just doesn't feel right.
My Psychiatrist's orders notwithstanding, I've discontinued taking Rivotril (a benzodiazepine , prescribed to me to keep my anxiety in check) because I decided that throwing back two bottles of strong beer before I sleep is about 10,000 shades more fun that popping a little pill that severely messes up your emotions before actually sending you to a troublesome and intermittent sleep.
Also, all of my friends booze up on Fridays and, for me, that only means one thing: Alcohol/Recreational drug-induced Coma. So usually, my Saturdays consist of oafishly trying to get ready for work as I ungracefully move from bed to shower, back to bed, and to the couch to sneak in a couple of more minutes of sleep; my body being sluggish in every sense of the word in protest of the eight liters of alcohol still coursing through my bloodstream.
What's worse than the physical backlash of my inordinate drinking are the mental ones. As you all know, I am suffering from a weird-ass form of anxiety disorder and I am taking SSRI's/Anti-depressants to cope with it. Now when you have SSRI's trying to maintain dopamine and serotonin levels in your brain and you throw in gratuitous and overweening amounts of alcohol into the fray, the result is that–well let's just say you become really fucked up.
So besides being hungover like a bitch, I also have a ragbag of rotten emotions which makes the comedown REALLY difficult to deal with. This morning, while my body desperately tried to purge itself from all the alcohol I consumed last night, my extreme mood swings caused me to cry when I saw a TV ad about coffee and caused me to feel bloodlust and made me chase the paper boy down the street and stab him in the neck because the little Visayan fucker shortchanged me by four pesos. Fucking asshole I swear to god.
Also, I need your opinion on this. We've already established that I was feeling really shitty this morning and no matter what I do, I couldn't bring myself to get to work. Now what I did was pop another bottle of Red Horse open and masturbated while listening to John Legend's - Save Room on my iPod (My new masturbation song. A song that bumped off Gwyneth Paltrow and Huey Lewis' Cruisin, my old masturbation song) and that sort of did the trick. Is this bad? Is there anything wrong with that? Is there a stronger word for "Drunkard?"
Fuck, I honestly think I'm losing it. So I strongly advise you not to be anywhere near Shaw boulevard today–unless of course you want a bullet in the leg because seriously, I feel like picking off people with a rifle from our building's rooftop.
Oh and have a great weekend!
Mike "Fucking" Villar
"a Manila-based blogger made famous by his Atrocities of Friendster series, a regular feature he publishes on his blog where he mercilessly criticizes and mocks pictures of ugly people he stumbles upon on popular social networking site, Friendster. Although a lot of people are offended by what he writes, long-time readers of his blog regard him as a brilliant satire writer."
-Taken from my WikiBios page
