Late Night Blog Shift

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Oh um, hi, 2am.
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Didn't expect to see you here? Er yeah. Been a while huh?
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I mean week nights? Really? I thought we were over all this silliness? Yeah I'm sorry we haven't met up in a while too, but you can't just turn up on a school night and expect me to pick up where we left off. I've moved on. Midnight and I are going steady now. I can't even imagine staying out when I could be in bed, by midnight, almost every night! (the saucy little minx).
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I know this is a unique scenario, what with it being a leaving do with work colleagues, but in a way that makes this even harder. 7 coronas can't fix this for us, even if my colleagues say it could work out. We just don't get on in that way. You always seem to change into 3 and, in the worst case scenarios, 4am the next day! I can't even recognise you. And you aren't getting the best of me either. You're looking at a girl who impulse bought a 84" high loft bed frame that probably won't fit through the halway, let alone in the flat. Look, even the laziness in my eye comes out when we meet up.

We are a toxic combination.
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Drunk me, there. On the late night blog shift.
Thanks for your, er, contribution. Oh. And for the little "gift" of dehydration, remorse, and a rather large (both in terms of physical size and financial commitment) ebay purchase you've left me to sort out today.



Drunk me is a twat.