An Hour


That’s how long I made it at norre bong (think karaoke, but in a private room) before flipping my gourd.  And that was after several hours at a bar.  It feels really screwed up when being able to sit in a hot, noisy room for an hour is an accomplishment.  But a year ago, I wouldn’t have made it five minutes.

It didn’t help that the vast majority of the people there were drunk out of their skulls and smoking cigs like they’re going to be banned tomorrow.  Now my eyes, nose and throat burn.  As soon as I got home, I threw my out on the porch.  I jumped in the shower (before I turned on the hot water heater).  I didn’t want my smelly (smoky) body to touch my furniture.

Ugh.  I didn’t really want to go in the first place, now I’m pretty sorry I did…


About katm

I'm just your typical depressed donkey. I'm an abuse survivor. I deal with the pain and stiffness and other fun stuff that goes with fibromyalgia. I used to teach English for a living but because of my health, that isn't any option anymore. I love to cook and feel most in my element when I'm in the kitchen tinkering around.

One response »

  1. smoking cigs like they’re going to be banned tomorrow. LOL
    Yeah, I was w/ a chain smoker so I know what it feels like to be overpowered by smoke. Heck, I’m a smoker and it gets to me when someone fills my house cause they smoke like they’re going to be banned tomorrow.

    Truthfully an hour is progress. I don’t do parties. I can’t even take it not even an hour. The noise and movement is too much for me. I think I would have come home and hid in the closet…literally hid in the closet for a nice dark and quiet place.


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