And Wait

I must be more attractive with a glass of booze in my hand.

He stands next to the bar, one eye on the TV, talking to me about baseball.

I went to the hotel bar to get completely intoxicated, but found myself only sipping on the Grey Goose and OJ. I couldn't stomach the rest, something about it being too sweet for gulping.

It was the place where I first got drunk, sometime between 2005 and 2006 (but honestly, I don't remember what year; I just recall that I was dating Lucky at the time, and I was in my first manic episode).

Pushed a little too hard, and I'm revolting.

I know I have better uses for my time--like writing at least one of the two essays due this week. I could be walking the dog, as she sits in the backseat of the SUV in the hotel parking lot. I could be reading articles besides what comes up in my Facebook account--maybe something to do with Islam (for my paper).

I think about calling someone, but I don't know who--so I just sit there for a little while, and wait.