Get up early tomorrow
morning, start a
not-so-exciting
job at the not-so-
exciting 7-
Eleven. Whoopee!
None of That
Is so easy to do,
semibuzzed and
knowing I need to
crash,
knowing I most
definitely will
crash
as soon as everyone
eats and drinks their
fill, goes on home.
Except,
of course, I’ll have
to deal with Mom’s
wrath, Scott’s
inquisition,
Leigh’s hurt [real
or imagined], Heather’s
delight at my
torment,
a possible [make
that highly probable]
confrontation
between all of the above