Sometimes I do seriously dumb things. I admit they are dumb. I know they are when I do them and simply cross my fingers that I'll miraculously get through in one piece.

Well, it happened like this. I stayed up too late writing for too many nights in a row and Sunday is one of the best days in my writer's group chatroom. We had a new person online, it's invitation only just to keep things well moderated and safe, and I wanted to just keep staying up and staying up and staying up. I was also on a roll with my writing and happily multi-tasking between the chat and the pages.

So I drank too much coffee and smoked too many cigars and by the time that midnight came and I felt incredibly exhausted, I could not get my head to stop whirring. "No problem," says I. "I have just the cure."

So then I added too much vodka to the too much coffee and the too many cigars.

Well, for the first time in many years, I was shocked to find that I was shit-faced and staggering. I knocked over the trash can as I went tumbling, since I could not control my bad leg, and hit the filing cabinet where I fractured my toe and bashed my ankle. I went from there to the floor, bruised my ass and my shoulder.

By this time it is hard to say what is more bruised, my body or my ego. And to make matters still worse I have terrified the dog who is now in the middle of the bed barking at me.

Once the next day dawned I dealt with my hangover and started sweeping up the strewn about garbage. When I make a mess, I really MAKE A MESS.


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