The Open Matt Project

Ow

Apparently a couple of drinks rapidly transformed into a whole lot of drinking last night. I'm not sure how much I spent, but when I try to remember, I feel my tear ducts start to fire up so I bet it was too much. Sometime later in the evening I slipped on the wet tiled floor (damn hazard I've been wary of for years) and went flat on my back. Two guys nearby looked at me moon-eyed and asked if I was alright and I told them that I was just testing how drunk I was and I'd passed the test, since I knew I had injured myself and simply wasn't feeling it.

Today, however, I'm not so lucky. My right wrist is swole up like I got a golf ball in there and my right hip ain't feeling so hot either. I popped some advil and put my big girl pants on. You shoulda heard me in the shower moaning like a war casualty - it made me sick. Pathetic, really.

While in the shower, I had an opportunity to weigh myself. Just shy of 140 pounds in my birthday suit, I've gained at least 10 pounds in the last year. Shocking. I place the blame on thanksgiving dinner, the El Nino of carbohydrate meals. Sadly, I think most of the added fat has distributed itself on my hips and between my ears. If this is the price of getting older, I'd like a refund.

As punishment for my absolute disregard for frugality, I've decided to make myself the last of the leftovers instead of ordering pizza or chinese food. Cooking is just about where dying of dysentery is on my list of things I'd least like to do, so I reckon if this hangover I'm gurgling through doesn't remind me that drinking to excess is excessively drinking then cooking with my busted wrist probably will. Not to mention the frustration involved in masturbating with my off-hand.

Posted by Matt at December 5, 2003 04:30 PM