2.) The Morning After

Upon my arrival at my small yet cozy studio, I had finally thought myself tired of a man that I doubted I'd ever see again. I walked in, let my things fall where they wanted and poured myself one more glass of wine than I should have and slipped into a beautifully inebriated slumber.

The next morning I rolled out of bed and turned my jet black sheet into a cocktail dress that Holly Golightly would have approved of. I finished the glass of Sauvignon Blanc that I fell asleep to the night before and headed over to the record player. Every morning I habitually listened to one of the two Jimi's, Hendrix or Morrison. It was a Doors type of morning.

I turned on the shower to let it warm up. A process that was painstakingly annoying and the cause of my lateness majority of the time or so I had convinced myself. To pass the time I sat at my vanity, threw the curly mop I called hair into a messy bun and sparked a cigarette. I sat there listening to "Light My Fire" and staring at my reflection wondering, "What the hell are you doing with yourself?" A question I often asked when I wasn't sober enough to care about the answer. While I gathered my thoughts to fully contemplate the matter I rolled myself a joint to expedite the process.

I never found an answer to that loaded gun of a question. I decided against pulling the trigger and found myself content with the idea that life was meant to live in moments. With that logic as my guiding force I decided to stop by the factory. There was always something happening over there and I wouldn't necessarily need to wear anything aside from my make shift cocktail dress.

I slipped out of my ode to Audrey Hepburn and toked my way to the bathroom to start the day.

After a surprisingly hot shower I wrapped up in my fluffiest bathrobe and danced my way to the closet to find an actual outfit. Mainly because it was 54 degrees and I wasn't nearly drunk enough to wear a bed sheet outside. I settled on a short plum dress tights and my over sized fur. It was my mother's and one of the few possessions I ever gave a damn about. I threw on some makeup and began the hunt for my shoes which took an unnecessary 20 minutes.

The fact that I had been drinking at 9 AM on an empty stomach didn't help either i'm sure.  My rational was that it was always noon somewhere and that was all the logic I needed.

Eventually I got myself together and in the midst  of doing so, rolled one more joint for the walk to the subway and blissfully left the house letting Mr. Mojo Risen and the boys play themselves out.