roll it up, take a hit, watch in horror/awe/curiosity/boredom at men moving quickly and flashes of light.
try to avoid the vodka, fail. deal with the next day and procrastinate. the couch seems like a good place to die.
write an angry comment on facebook, fall in love with strangers, cope with the overwhelming urge to buy flowers. it's a good day to form new habits, but i wont.
remember last night, cringe at yourself in the mirror, avoid counting how many drinks you had, crave an espresso martini. the bartender told me to use an inside voice before i had even taken my first sip.