Wednesday, October 28, 2015

That one time (compared to all of the other times) that my friend had a panic attack.

(She has a shit ton of panic attacks).


In 2010 (I can't believe that was almost six years ago, I'm getting old as shit) things were going pretty good. I mean, I would've preferred for more things to have been going my way, but who wouldn't? Ah, the days of when I ate like I do now while drinking copious amounts of alcohol and Dr. Pepper and my pants remained a size 00.

The only thing that has changed on that front is the pants size. Whatevs, I'm good with it.

I was working at the nursing home at the time (I had been there a little over two years) and pretty much never left the skilled hall. In nursing home slang, the "skilled hall" means the hall full of the people that require more care or full care (i.e. Dementia, Alzheimers, splints, paraplegic, quadriplegic, etc.). I enjoyed working on that hall and considered it "my hall". Not "my hall" as in I owned it or was in charge, but "my hall" as in the one I just always worked on.

Everybody that worked there had "their hall" (it was before new management took over and ruined all of our lives), at least in most cases. We would all travel to all of the other ones to help out and would call each other over the loud speaker (or from down the hallway) when we needed or wanted someone specific. I was still working evenings/nights at the time, and was pretty close with almost everyone that I worked with. It's amazing how close you get to some people when you're with them 8-16 hours a day, 6-7 days a week.

That was also the year that swine flu hit the south like a ton of bricks. You laugh, but it's true. People were getting so sick that they were dying (I refuse to say they died from the flu, I go with flu related complications). There were warning signs in the windows of grocery stores and all facilities open to the public to warn people.

Someone made a sign that we had to hang in the nursing home to ward off people coming in that had a cough or fever. It was a real cute sign to, had a little piggy on it with a thermometer in its mouth..... and now that I think back on it, that was probably considered tacky (doesn't make it less cute- we all liked it). Of course, almost every single person got sick (employees and residents) no matter how many precautions we took, because some bitches don't listen when you tell them to keep their fevers away.

There were very few of us that didn't get sick and the hall I worked on was the worst, for the simple fact that we had the most patients (43 in total). Because of this, we had to quarantine and the ones of us that didn't get sick worked double shifts (and then some).

Of course, B. Davis didn't handle the quarantine well. That's what happens when you make someone who's claustrophobic wear a quarantine suit and lock all the doors. Which is hilarious to me, because the doors were always locked and required a code to get in/out of, but she chose that moment to freak out about it. It shouldn't surprise me, she's also the person that turned blue on me and passed out, because she was in denial about being knocked up..... another story for another day.

The point is, yes B. Yes, I remember working 20 hour shifts for almost two weeks. Yes, I remember eating fries, candy and Powerade for breakfast/lunch/dinner. Yes, I remember having to take shifts napping in Mrs. V's recliner, because we weren't allowed to leave the building. Yes, I remember having to blow in your face to make you catch your breath, because according to you "this bird can't be caged in, this bird has to spread her wings to fly." Yes, I remember dancing up and down the halls while bringing people ice water multiple times to keep them hydrated. Yes, I remember the look on your face the first time you seen me rap Eminem trying to calm you down (it totally worked). Yes, I remember the messes that we had to clean up (and the God awful way we smelled after all was said and done). And finally, yes, I do remember all of you awesome people that I used to work with and still consider my surrogate family.  

Here's looking at you.

Monday, October 26, 2015

Am I the only one that connected those dots?!

(Dude better watch his back- And also, probably his crotch).


I'm sure once you read that picture right up there that you thought that this was going to be some sort of inspirational post. Or at the very least, something empowering or positive. Am I right? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news (no, I don't), but this is nothing like that. In fact, it's kind of the exact opposite.

Actually, it's about a dirty cheater and his concubine. Remember when I told you the beginning of the story? This is part two.

I was scrolling through FB like I do on occasion (i.e. every damn day) and came across the "people you might know" feature. You know the one, it has profile pictures of people that you might know, based on mutual friends and location. A name popped up and the person did look relatively familiar, but it was real out of focus and the name didn't seem to match the face. So, I clicked on it.

Why wouldn't I click on it? We had like 12 "mutual friends" (I have got to quit FB- not gonna happen). And now I know why the picture didn't match the name. The picture is an out-of-focus one containing Dude #1 and Dude #2's wife. Apparently, they're out there and "official" now. And the only reason I say that is, because of this profile picture.

Oh, and of another picture that she has of him on her page talking about "how in love" she is with him (nevermind that she hadn't posted in awhile and the previous post said the same thing..... about her actual husband).

Also, the sonogram picture. Did I forget to mention that part? Yeah, she put the sonogram picture up there declaring when the baby (it's a girl- in case you were wondering) is due (February) and how happy she and the baby's daddy (Dude #1) are to be welcoming this little bundle of joy.

And usually this would be a happy occasion (I think), but with the whole cheating debacle and him having a little girl (who's not going to take not being the only child anymore very well) with his current wife (because both of them are still legally married, although separated NOW) and all of the craziness that is ensuing, I'm assuming not a lot of people are happy about it. They don't have anything against the baby (it's not her fault that her parents are idiots), but they're still not happy with Dude #1 and Dude #2's wife.

And I'm assuming this, because remember that picture at the beginning of the post? That's the picture that was shared on the FB page of Dude #1's wife six hours after the whole "announcement post". (Can you blame her, I mean, really?) And I think that I'm the only one that caught this, but I can't be sure. Also, I have sympathy for Dude #1's wife and Dude #2. It's about to go down. I just don't know what "it" is yet.

Here's hoping for the best at the end of this shit show.

Thursday, October 22, 2015

In between The Rock and the UK

(Tayder always watches TV with me- Even when he's sleepy).


Momma and I watched a couple good movies over the last few weeks. The first one that we watched was when I was sick and had to stay home from work on a Tuesday (I puked up red fettuccine noodles out of my nose..... I know it's disgusting, sorry). That day as I laid on the couch with Tayder and only went outside for about twenty minutes, hoping that the fresh air would make me feel better, we watched- San Andreas.

Have you heard of it? If not, let me tell you a little bit about it. It's a "natural disaster" movie that has Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson (and no, I will never not call him "The Rock", dammit) and Carla Gugino as the main characters. DTRJ is a Los Angeles Fire Department Air Rescue pilot and Carla is his estranged wife. Alexandra Daddario plays their daughter.

Let me just say that movie is awesome and if you like those kinds of movies than you should definitely watch it. Hell, even if you don't like those movies you should watch it. Trust me on this one. DTRJ is a badass, Carla Gugino is a badass, basically just everybody in the movie is a badass. Except Ioan Gruffudd. He's a douche canoe in it, but other than that, filled with badasses.

Best part of the movie? (And trust me, there are a lot):

Emma Gaines: "You left my daughter?! If you're not dead already, I'm gonna f****** kill you". Ray Gaines: "That's my girl."

The other movie that we watched was over this past weekend and it was- Spy. You know which one I mean, the one with Melissa McCarthy, Jason Statham and Jude Law. The one that was supposed to be real funny. Yeah, it wasn't real funny, it was damn hilarious!! Everyone that I know that's seen it has been like- "Who knew Jason Statham was so funny?!" And I'm over here like- "Me. I did. That would be me." If you didn't realize that he was funny, then you have issues.

However, even I wasn't prepared for just how hilarious that he would be. I don't know if I stopped laughing through the whole thing. Of course Momma left the living room to do something else during both movies, because she doesn't watch anything real long, but all the parts that she did watch, she cracked up.

I must have really needed a good laugh and this one more than delivered. I'm a fan of all of the stars, so it was a pretty easy choice for me to watch it, but I've been suggesting it to people ever since. The plot is simple, Melissa McCarthy is a desk-bound CIA analyst and eventually she has to go out into the field as an undercover spy wherein hilarity ensues. Jason Statham and Jude Law are also spies. I don't want to give away too much, but believe me when I say if you need to laugh- watch it!!

Best part of the movie? (Once again, this is hard to narrow down).

Rick Ford: "You really think you’re ready for the field? I once used defibrillators on myself. I’ve pulled shards of glass out of my f****** eye. I’ve jumped from a high-rise building using only a raincoat as a parachute and broke both legs upon landing. And I still had to pretend I was in a f****** Cirque du Soleil show! I’ve swallowed enough microchips and shit them back out again to make a computer. This arm has been ripped off completely and reattached with this f****** arm." Susan Cooper: "I don’t know that that’s possible. I mean, medically." 

Just thought I would let you guys know, watch both films, you won't regret it.

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

No one has used that "group" since May.

(I think we were trying to channel the Brady Bunch).



This past Saturday the women in my family got together (minus a few that already had plans) like we do from time to time. We met up at Aunt Susi's house around eleven(ish- more like twelve) and were there until around two. I think. I can't be trusted with an actual/accurate timeline.

This whole "group" thing started years and years ago, with the sisters getting together to hang out, eat and make crafts. It was originally called- "sisters" or "sister get-together" or something like that, because it was originally just of course, the sisters in the family.

And over the years they started bringing their daughters and inviting the daughter-in-laws and it kept growing and then drama broke out (because how is there not drama when that many people that don't see each other, but once a year get together?) and they stopped having it.

And then this past year around December, Aunt Susi brought up the idea of having it again. You know, because the ones of us that come just want to get together, talk a bit, maybe eat or drink a little something and leave. We want no drama. Basically, because I hate it and it's tiring.

Her and Dani discussed it and Aunt Susi decided that she would be in charge of planning, since it was her idea and she would want something to do when she retired come May. (And if we're being honest here, she has OCD- besides the point). And her first executive decision as "group planner" was to have Dani make a FB page and add all of the ones that would be coming (and actually had FB), that way we could all post in it about our plans, pictures and etc. You know, so no one would be left out.

And that worked for about a couple of months (when Dani would post in it) and then I'm not really sure what happened. Everybody kind of just resorted to texting, because they got just so "up in the air" and people were responsible for telling other people, and then some people got forgotten, and then there really weren't definitive plans and people were showing up and others weren't. It was just a cluster f*** of a situation.

And the last post that was made in the FB group entitled- "The Girls" was by Dani on May 6th. That was, until I noticed it this morning while I was perusing (insomnia- party of one) FB and decided to post something, since it hadn't been used in almost six months. In case you're wondering (you're totally not), I posted a picture of Aunt Winnie from this past Saturday with fake, orange vampire teeth in her mouth and multi-colored feathers in her hair. Because that shit was hilarious.

Originally, we were all supposed to try and get together every other month. And it's very amusing to me that our first one was in February and the next one was May, which means that we were late right out of the gate.

After our Mothers Day get together, it was just kind of put off, because a bunch of shit just started going down. Like, people were going on vacations and others were moving, then a couple went to the hospital and so on and so forth. The point is, we all just kind of thought that we weren't doing it anymore, because we hadn't in around five months.We had all seen each other and spent time together, just not all of us at the same time. And now that I think about it, I think that Momma, Patsy and I are the only ones that see Shantel away from these things. Not the point. Also, most of us got together in September to have lunch with Aunt Linda before she went back down to Florida. But Dani and I couldn't stay long, because we were on our lunch break and a couple others were working. Momma and Poot had just come from the doctor. Aunt Susi had an appointment. Again, it was just all over the place and not considered a "get together".

Then Aunt Susi said "they" decided to have one on October 17th. (And by "they" I mean she decided and Aunt Mary seconded her vote, because they were the only two there- don't worry, we're all fine with that). And it "had to" be October 17th, because our company picnic was the 10th (a lot of our family works at, is retired from or is married to someone who works at the company that Dani and I do) and I guess my cousin Corey (whom I don't even talk to and haven't in years) is getting married on the 24th (only Aunt Susi and Aunt Mary are going to his wedding, and maybe Shantel and them, I don't know, but whatever you get that some people are going). Dani made the mistake of asking why it couldn't be on a Friday evening or Sunday. There was an answer, but I don't even remember what it was.

So, the ones of us that could make it (there were a few that had previous plans already in place, and the "get together" was kind of late notice) headed on over to Aunt Susi's last Saturday. And we all had a good time. We laughed, cut up, took pictures, talked, and Aunt Susi and Aunt Mary made all of us facinators to wear as a joke/craft. It was real cute and we agreed to have a Christmas "get together" (that is apparently going to be at Aunt Mary's and Aunt Susi is supposed to let us all know when, what time and what to bring).

Personally, I think we should use the group to put plans out there. We'll still all text each other and talk about it when we see each other. BUT if we put it on FB where everyone is tagged, then people can't say they weren't invited, didn't know about it, and then we'll just all have it right there where we can all see it. Makes sense to me, we'll see how this goes. (By the way, I hope Aunt Susi makes those brownies she made this past Saturday for the next one, because they were delicious!!).

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

We had our annual company picnic. (Almost two weeks ago).

(And promptly wanted to punch like twenty people in the face).


I've mentioned in the past about our "annual company picnic" and shared random pictures from the events since I started working at my current job. Nothing too big or anything, but like I said, it's been mentioned.

Almost two weeks ago (oops) on October 10, we had this years. Ever since Aunt Susi made Dani and I responsible for them, we've held them more towards autumn instead of the usual June/July (because we took a vote and the vote was: Dani and Katie- 02 vs Everybody else- 00. In other words, we were tired of sweating so much, so they didn't get a vote).

We had discussed not having one at all, because attendance over the last five or so years has been low. And no, it's not just me, I haven't even been here that long. The employees just seem to want to do other things and if we're being perfectly honest with each other, most are jerks. So, you know, there's that.

This year was no exception. Besides Dani and I (with three people that we brought between us, I brought Momma and Dani had her husband Chris that works with us and her little girl), Tony and his son, our other warehouse guy, Uncle Roger (with Aunt Susi- she invited Aunt Mary and Uncle Bob like every other year) and Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell (he's retired from our company), there was five employees to show up.

FIVE. And only one of them (a guy brought his wife and three of his kids) had family with them. Oh, and one guy brought his wife. That's it. Apparently the majority of the other guys were trying to "make a statement" by not coming. Well, they succeeded. I don't know what "statement" that they were trying to make, but the "statement" that was received was-

"Whatevs. All of us there had a real good time; We ate tasty food and treats; Had our pictures drawn by a caricature artist; Laughed and painted pumpkins. If you didn't want to come, that's all on you. But, jokes on you in the end, because we all took home the leftovers and they, too, were delicious."

And the President of our company decided to put them (the company picnics) off from now on. And probably also our Christmas party. Why? Because all of that shit is expensive as hell and a shit ton of work, and since the ones of us that plan it (i.e. Dani and I) don't care if we have it or not, we've decided no. While we all had fun, it's just too much money and work to have that small of a turnout.

And we're (again- Dani and I) perfectly ok with that. Afterall, that's just time that we can have to do what we really want. (Like drink and watch tv). 

Monday, October 19, 2015

I'm all over the place right now.

(And tired as hell- As you can probably tell by my face).


For starters, I totally held a baby (my friend- Shelley's) and she liked me. (She'll be two months old in a couple of days). Like, not the usual complacent kind of liked, but for real likability. Clearly, I am the Baby Whisperer. And since this will probably never happen again (kids and I tend to not see eye to eye- because I think they're demons), I wanted proof. So, there it is.

October seems to just be a busy month all the way around. Seriously, it's like a never ending battle with events, change, and all the other "going ons".

I don't even know where to begin. I have so many posts that I want to write, so many things that I want to share and a mess of pictures that I want to post, and yet, I can't seem to get to all of it. I thought maybe I would start out small and just do a little catch up day by day, but even that seems to be a daunting task. It's like I just can't get ahead for love nor money.

There are things that have happened and tasks that have been completed (the moving/unpacking is the majority of the way done- Hallelujah!!) and we've been going non-stop with all of it. Seriously, I don't know if we've had a weekend or a full evening off without some sort of task awaiting to be done. It's a never ending battle (not unlike the Battle of Helm's Deep).

But I have made it a mission of mine to update and try to catch back up. Which, if we're being perfectly honest, is quite a bit to take on considering I have a month worth of craziness to write about. It's all good though, Momma's good (just got a check-up today with her neurologist and things are looking good- HALLELUJAH!! I could not be happier with that news), Greg is doing good, he's still pimping his room out like there's not tomorrow. Tayder is a little sore, but I'm going to go ahead and contribute that to everything that's been going on (i.e. craziness) and his harness. And me?! Well, let's just say that I'm still chugging along and going to try to catch up with my sanity (however, I think that ship has long sailed into the horizon).

Also, remind me to talk about me being sick. Let's just say, red fettuccine noodles came out of my nose, and leave that story for another day.

Friday, October 2, 2015

When life is good.

(I just love that good ole pup of mine).


Life is good.

Life is stressful, hectic, trying, crazy and often times tear and anxiety-driven, but it is good. You ever just have one of those moments that you're doing something and it's so stressful you think that you may in fact snap, but then a little breeze blows or you look up and just see something completely random and even though you're completely on edge and contemplating kicking someone in the throat, you realize that you're still happy?

And not even just complacent happy, but actually happy? You know shuffling around in your head that there's still things that you want, or people that you wish could be there, but for the most part you are in fact happy. All of the sudden you're just at peace. And I know it feels contradictive to say- "I'm completely stressed" and then in the same sentence say- "I'm at peace." I get it, I'm no philosopher.

What I am though, is completely me.

I say what I feel, I look how I'm comfortable, and I act for myself. I live my life for my peace of mind and I surround myself with as much love and affection as I possibly can. I feel this great need to care for people and I'm not the least bit sorry for it.

People tend to think that you as a person should live your life a certain way. They think there are certain "guidelines" for which you should prioritize your life. It's usually very simple: go through school, get a good job, get married, have kids, do what society tells you is the correct and proper way to go about things. And do you know what I have to say about that and to those people?

Bless your heart.

Who is someone to tell you how to live your life and how your happiness should be rated? I say to hell with that. I live a somewhat unconventional life. Not to me, but according to other peoples standards. I'm twenty-five years old. I'm unmarried (I have never had the desire to be married and don't feel like people have to be to share their lives with one another), I have no children (nor do I want them, I think motherhood is an amazing thing, but not for everyone), I don't own my own home (renting is not a giant issue with me like it is a lot of people), my car is not brand new (but it's a going little thing), my mother and I live together (and I wouldn't have it any other way), and the man that's been "warming my bed" and giving me cuddles has been with me for ten years and is my puppy dog- Tayder (he's the best ever and he'll make sure to tell you that).

By societal standards, that makes me practically an old-maid, spinster or depending on who you ask- a pariah. People wonder why I make the choices that I do or have in the past and think it's unnatural that I'm so content with my decisions. The truth? Because I'm happy. The way I look at it, why spend your life doing things that make you feel horrible? Don't get me wrong, we all have to do things that we don't want to do at times, and I'm not saying that marriage and kids is bad, it's perfectly grand..... if that's what you want.

I'm not trying to get all heavy and go on a ramble about my life views, I just wanted to reveal my revelation. The past couple of weeks have been hectic, stressful and draining. I'm physically, emotionally and psychologically tired. By Thursday evening I thought very well that my forearms were going to fall off, I would never be able to stand up straight again, our house would never be in order for as long as I live and I wanted to just sit in a corner and cry. That's how tired I am.

But then I took a shower and when I got out I had a message from PB. I sat down to answer him and while I was waiting for his reply the breeze came through our open living room window and I started looking around. And sure there are boxes stacked to the hilt, and every piece of furniture that we own is in disarray. But, I noticed that Tayder was just laying there next to me so I could rub his belly like I have for so long, Momma was at the kitchen table on her computer humming to herself like she unrealizingly does, Greg was in his room doing his thing, my fan was going a mile a minute and the moon was as bright as it could be peeking through the curtains. The air out is crisp and cool and the wind is sharp (I know, because my cheeks and lips are officially windburned). There's just a calm, in the air and in myself.

While my anxiety is always at a 12.7 on a scale of 1-10, as I sat there on the floor looking around, in a pair of pajama pants and an old tshirt, with a towel on my head, no makeup, listening to the random sounds of my life, talking to one of my very best friends, I got it. I'm happy. Do I wish that things were easier sometimes? Yes. Are there things that I would change? Sure. Are there people that are not with me that I wish could be? Absolutely. But life isn't meant to be easy, it's just supposed to be ours. And mine? Well, mine isn't bad. Not bad at all.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

I disappeared for a couple of weeks.

(Only from the internet though).


I haven't written a blog post in almost two weeks. Actually, it would be over two weeks since I technically wrote my last post and scheduled it, but let's not get all technical today. I'm too tired for it. I do have a reason for being so absent though. A good reason? I don't know, but it is a reason.

We moved.

Well, we're still moving stuff, so I guess "we're moving" is a more accurate description, but there it is. That's the reason. We (and by we I mean they decided and I was like- whatevs) decided to move from our two bedroom apartment into a three bedroom house. This decision came from the fact that a few months ago Greg decided he needed to come live with us for awhile and we came to the realization that if that was going to happen, we needed more space.

Besides, the people we were renting our apartment from weren't taking care of the landscaping/cleaning, they wouldn't fix anything when you called the office for maintenance, people trash everything and they started having sticky fingers. We've had things stolen, it's loud even at night from where people yell and let their children run around until one o'clock in the morning and someone attempted to write on the fender of our car. Luckily for me, I can't bring myself to be offended by someone when they can't even properly spell what it is they're trying to call me. Sorry, not sorry.

So, with our lease coming to an end, we started looking at bigger apartments and houses. It took awhile, but we finally found the one that would suit us just fine. It's a three bedroom, one bath house. It's got living room, kitchen, laundry room and additional room (whatever that means- I assume people can use it as a dining room, office, or playroom). It's got a two car garage and a decent size yard. It comes complete with some real friendly neighbors and right around the corner from Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell. Not too shabby.

[[Side note: Our neighbors were talking to Greg the other day and informed him there's a guy that lives on the side street connected to ours that is a on-again/off-again crack addict. Apparently he'll be clean for a month or two and then he'll go on a bender for a month or so. And the only reason they told us this is, because apparently when he's on a bender he's been known to break into houses to steal things to support his habit. They said that he's never broken into their house and they've never had any trouble out of him, nor has anybody directly around us, but he is known for it. I informed them that they might want to make it known that he might be a crackhead only 65% of the time, but I'm crazy 100% of the time, so if he goes breaking into our house, I have no qualms about beating him with a bat, shooting him in the foot, or stabbing him in the leg with a screwdriver. I don't deal well with crackheads or thieves. Believe it or not, they were on my side about this.]]

Like I was saying, moved(or ing). After Momma and I moved into our apartment last October, we both said that we weren't moving again for a really long time. Honestly, we're just over it and moving is incredibly hard. It's just an unpleasant part of life. But, when Greg talked to us about coming back home, we knew realistically that we would have to so we could accommodate the extra person and all of his belongings. I tried to ignore it and was hoping everybody else would to, just so I wouldn't have to do all of this, but guess what? To no avail, and I knew that, but you can't blame a girl for trying.

[[Another side note: Momma and I counted how many times we've moved and just since we've had Tayder the total was eight. That's not counting all the times before that (a lot).]]

And in all actuality, I'm real happy that we moved (again, or ing) and that Momma and Greg are much happier now. It doesn't really phase me, like I said, I've never been real picky when it comes to house, apartment, trailer, etc. As long as Momma is good and I have a place to live, shower, watch tv, I'm good.

We've been moving things this whole week (we signed the lease on Monday). Aunt Poot and Uncle Darrell have been our biggest helps (like always, they're awesome) and Ashley came over after work today and helped us get the rest of our "big stuff" (i.e. beds, hutch, curio cabinet, recliner). Have I ever mentioned that she's awesome? Because if not, let me just tell you- she is.

And let me tell you, we are all worn out. Momma's little foot is swollen and sore, poor Aunt Poot is sick, Greg is himself (we've worked all week and moved things after work) and I'm tired and sore. You should see me wash my hair at this point, it's hilarious. My arms are so sore that I can barely lift them long enough to wash my hair. (Also, I hurt my back. Again. And can barely move without being in pain. Again. Go figure.) I kind of just want to take a shower (actually I want someone to give me one, because- sore) and lay down in the fetal position on the mattress (it's on the living room floor at this moment), let the fan hit me in the face and sleep for like three or four days.

It's been crazy. I've been up until midnight or after every night this week (I get up at five in the morning for work) trying to get everything moved, cleaned and taken care of. You know, the usual. We only have (probably) one trip of boxes/totes left and then we're done and will be permanently done with the apartment. Well, after we get the rest of the boxes/totes out I have to vacuum and patch any holes that I missed, but other than that, we're done. Momma and Greg are going with Uncle Darrell early Saturday morning to get our stove/refrigerator and Aunt Poot said she found us a washer, so all we'll need is a dryer and we'll be good to go. We're almost there.

Moving is exhausting and I need a drink!!