Today Started With a Half Flask of Bourbon...

I found it buried in my car under the passenger seat.

"The hell?" I was puzzled, I admit. In a quick cleaning frenzy to once again clear out the shit that magically accumulates in my car I came across the forgotten flask tucked under directions to a some place I couldn't recall and a gas receipt from March. Honestly, the last time I saw this thing was probably months ago. I had carted it along on a night out with friends in an attempt to get a bit tipsy before dancing and save myself a bit of money by not buying myself an poorly made $8 sidecar*.

Honestly, I was already in a bit of a rush as I had decided to prolong my shower with a moving rendition "Disturbia" via shampoo bottle makeshift microphone. Furthermore, it was damn cold outside. Like see your breath 40 degrees cold with fog rolling in at horror movie thickness - it obscured vision like the best of intentions. I looked at the bottle furtively. I quickly checked my watch, hoping that the time I thought it was wasn't. It was.

"Screw it." I rolled my eyes as I quickly unscrewed the cap. I felt the bourbon slip down, its spicy burn warming and waking me. Why not go to work toasted? Given, the three 2-inch thick brownies and multivitamin I ate for breakfast would soak it all up, no question. Still, the timid societal rebel in me was happy to give the finger in a tiny way to the world.

I hopped into the car (it was maybe a half ounce on a full stomach, no worries) and threw my book and lunch on the seat. Lunch was going to be green curry with chicken. Again. My laptop had taken a turn for the worse and the purchase of a new MacBook had thrown me into a pit of leftovers and budget eating in order to recover some of the pennies I palmed over. The new diet program that comes with a Mac known as iBroke is a fabulous way to learn to cut your food budget and find yourself complacent with the most simplest of meals.

Still, I must admit. Now that I've tasted the punch I think I prefer Macs, though given I am still having some issues learning things and I find one or two things I like better on PC.

I took a few minutes to let the car warm up and listened to the radio. More bad news. More corruption. More people going broke. All followed by smooth jazz.

Anyways, by the time I settled myself into work, made myself some loose leaf Earl Grey and talked to [name of man I am smitten with] on the phone I had finally woken up. The day seemed to actually be off to a good start. The new article for Edible Sac looked like it was organizing itself nicely and would pan out to be something quite awesome. I was somewhat caught up with my paperwork. I learned that over 180 people follow my twitters, proving that 180+ people are obviously more crazy than me, and that sort of self assurance is always welcome. Plus, I had a drink before 7 am. Today seemed like good omens would abound.

It was only then I looked down at my cup.

Tasseography is a fickle mistress. Open to interpretation. Like the Oracle at Delphi or a box of chocolates, you never know just what you're going to get. The tea leaves had formed a neat and very clear "X" at the bottom of my mug.

Lord, I hope it's for "marks the spot" not "x'ed out."

*gay bar bartenders are the worst, if they even know what a sidecar is they screw it up, the only drink they know is vodka+juice