Get up early tomorrow
 
 morning, start a
 
 not-so-exciting
 
 job at the not-so-
 
 exciting 7-
 
 Eleven. Whoopee!
 
 None of That
 
 Is so easy to do,
 
 semibuzzed and
 
 knowing I need to
 
 crash,
 
 knowing I most
 
 definitely will
 
 crash
 
 as soon as everyone
 
 eats and drinks their
 
 fill, goes on home.
 
 Except,
 
 of course, I’ll have
 
 to deal with Mom’s
 
 wrath, Scott’s
 
 inquisition,
 
 Leigh’s hurt [real
 
 or imagined], Heather’s
 
 delight at my
 
 torment,
 
 a possible [make
 
 that highly probable]
 
 confrontation
 
 between all of the above