Things that involve crashing

UPPERS. Sudafed. Advil Multi-Symptom Cold. Whatever cold medicine I can get my hands on, just please, Lord, let its ingredients end in "-ephedrine" or else The Nose, it still runs.

[Dear Nose,

There seems to be a misunderstanding, because we do not run. Ever. Under any circumstances. This is not a marathon, and even if it were, twenty six miles is enough. Please be finished, already.

Thanks,
me]

Now, DOWNERS. Requisite Glass Of Wine enters my hand shortly after I walk in the door of my tiny apartment. Frenzy of tearing every article of clothing from my body. Tell-tale trail of garments to the World's Most Beautiful Dresser. Rummaging through drawers. Sweats, donned. Walk towards kitchen. Pick up strewn garments. Pour myself a glass of ruby-red goodness.

Subsequent visit of my very best friend INSOMNIA, who insists we stay up all night bake cookies eat ice cream gossip about boys. Instead of sleeping. And I wonder why I've gained ten pounds, but if it's not the cookies the ice cream the gossip it's certainly the not sleeping. Speeding up the shedding of the slightly-too-tight clothing from my body upon entry into my apartment.

Time to try something drastic? CRASH DIET which means being a little bit hungry but it's ok. It would be good - no, great - to lose two or three or five of my NEW best friends before having to face my relatives this weekend.

So. Four things that involve crashing. Perhaps it's time for me to trick out my Focus for rally racing. Or take up playing the cymbals.