Morning Call

I never experienced a full-blown hangover before. 

Or at least not one that left me feeling debilitated and sore all over, but right here, right then—probably the closest I was ever getting to one. And if this is what truly awaits a dude after a long night of asphyxiating one's liver, then consider me as abstained as the holiest, devoutest monk. I've seen the light and all that. 

Perhaps a bit too literally… 

Speaking of which, I haven't yet outright decided whether what I just snapped awake from was just a bizarre dream courtesy of my even more bizarre reality, or if I should be looking into a good lawyer and get around to writing a will sometime soon because as far as deathly omens go… being reprimanded by the actual manifestation of Death probably takes the cake.

In any case, I needed to tell someone. Irene, maybe. This involves her more than anyone else—her idea, after all.