The Sunday post party blues have come to roost. I spent most of today...asleep. The grey day slowly unraveled outside Astoria as I slept in my sibling's apartment and had that moment I always have when I wake up in strange rooms (by strange I mean not mine, don't get ideas); the moment of panic when your brain snaps awake and you just kind of go "where the fuck am I??" It is immediately followed by an "oh riiight" and falling back to sleep. I didn't really get up until after 9 am which is unheard of in my present life. But getting home at 4 am will do that to a person.
The party was a lot of fun, just as I knew it would be. I was supposed to blog about something that was said at the party around the 2 am mark but I knew as I told Lauren that I'd blog it, I would forget. And forget I did. I do remember, however, the fantastically unforgettable ugly sweaters that were being sported last night. Two people wore homemade dickies, Lauren wore a sparkly red sweater with the shoulders cut out and on our way out of the party I have a vague yet hilarious recollection of making the shoulder holes talk. As always, always happens when I hang out with Lauren, I spend the next day laughing at something that happened.
We left the party at around 3:30, amazingly found a taxi back to Queens after what turned out to be a hilarious conversation with the taxi driver wherein he lamented that he had "just left Queens" and had spent the whole night "driving back and forth" from one place to another. I voiced my impression that that is precisely his job. This then caused my brother, seated in the front passenger seat of the taxi to text me messages about how I should stop talking because he was on the verge of spiraling into hysterical laughter, not exactly a welcome action in an otherwise silent taxi cab. Despite the grumpy taxi driver (who later apologized for complaining after we left a generous tip) and the headache being suffered by my sister who sat and suffered in silence, it was a calm cab ride home; my life only flashed before my eyes once at the hands of a delivery truck in front of us.
Which brings me to today. I had a lovely brunch with my cousin Jessica and her son and the crew from last night and then I drove sleepily home in the rain, entered my apartment around 3 pm and have not left or done anything remotely productive for the past seven hours. Sundays were built for this. I had every intention of cleaning my apartment, going out to get the Sunday times, even making a cup of fucking tea but none of that happened. I just kind of sat here, falling in and out of sleep, spending my awake time feeling blue. Any deeper blue I'd be playing in my grave. It is a chemical/weather related thing though so I'm not terribly worried. The distortion that drizzles all over everything the morning after is sometimes best dealt with by burrowing under blankets, blinds drawn against the day.
I am so looking forward to sleeping. If only on the other side of tonight I was heading somewhere sunny. Blah blah I should just go to sleep.