0200 Monday morning. Can't sleep. Fuck this.
Just poured myself about four fingers of The Macallan Cask Strength. Perhaps I'll be more inclined to sleep if I'm a bit in the bag...
I'm on leave in Colorado right now, so other than my inability to shut my eyes for an extended period of time, life is great. I haven't shaved in ten days, and look vaguely homeless as a result. I know this, and I'm okay with it.
I've been at the mountain house for just shy of a week now - fishing, shooting, chilling. Got to hang out with my old man a bunch and had a few friends up for the weekend, which was fun. We drank way too much, but so be it. Saturday night my friends and I consumed enough alcohol to literally kill most people, consisting of tons of microbrews, scotch, a bottle of Evan Williams Single Barrel (best whiskey in the $25 range, arguably) and whatever else we found. Totally emptied the fridge, which was no small feat. Anyway.
Back to Fort Collins in a few hours... good thing dad's driving, because this aviation fuel mislabeled as scotch is very intoxicating. Normal people use $70 single malt to go to sleep, right? Fuck it, I'm not interested in being normal anyway, so why bother pretending?
Whiskey's gone. Time to watch the inside of my eyelids for awhile. Deuces.
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