I am such a freaking wuss. How big of a wuss, you ask? Last night, Jonno and I dashed Uptown to a wingding celebrating a friend’s new album and his [momentary] return to New Orleans, and after lil’ ol’ two beers, I could barely hold my head up. Midway through the performance, I had to slip out so I could come home and crash. This was not a late-night affair, people–this was for 8:00pm.
In all fairness, though, I have been working like a D-O-G dog on a massive event that happens ce soir. And I’ve been running back and forth to Baton Rouge more than usual. And–omigoddess, this is maybe the gayest thing I’ll say all year week morning–my yoga teacher really kicked my ass a couple of nights ago. But still…two beers? My friends are so totally planning an intervention. At least I hope they are.
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