I feel like I’m going to throw up. I’m sleep-deprived, but Ambien’d out. I don’t want to drug up again tonight. I thought going to the gym would make me feel better, but after jogging lightly on the treadmill for 90 minutes while watching Dancing with the Stars, I feel nauseous. I came home, folded my laundered clothes, and tried to power through our current book club book The Bonfire of the Vanities. Sometimes I can get into it, but sometimes I get lost in the details. It’s a little much. Did Tom Wolfe get anyone to edit this great American novel? It should be half the size.
I partied way too much the past couple nights and now I’m embroiled in the aftermath. The holiday hasn’t even come yet. I swear I am trick-or-treating with Dominic then calling it a night. I’m totally beat. I will be reprising my costume for the third time as Fame / Olivia Newton-John / Xanadu. The leg warmers don’t come through in the pictures. I’ll try to get some more on Wednesday.
Sidenote: During our writing class last week, Adair made us all wear head costumes (wigs, crowns, Cleopatra garb, pirate hat). I was Davey Crockett or Daniel Boon or someone of that sort. Class was quite funny. I should have taken pictures.
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