I am in a crappy mood. Actually, crappy is an understatement.
After waiting in line three different times to get checked into the rooms, and foraging for shrimp coffee, I can't seem to pull myself out from the depths of stinky attitude falling all around me.
It's raining crap ... and I am a poo sandwich (pardon the French.)
I think being overtired coupled with over stimulation in the form of Vegas is taking its toll. My poor little boyfriend and BFF are trying to make the best of it, and administer CPR to my mood -- but it ain't working. I just can't seem to shake it. I feel terrible, and if you could crawl under a bed and hide -- I just might. But you know those hotel beds ... they have those stupid boxes under them. Maybe I can hide in the closet. It's bigger than my bathroom at home.
Mom called. I think she's either drunk or gambling away her life savings in some dingy casino. Grandma is holed up in casa de room. We brought her roasted pepper soup and bread for dinner. Sounds more like jail, but she seems to be happy. I took a long bath and am going to start getting ready while my pals try and sleep for a while. Maybe if I sneak down to the bar and do a few shots I'll get this frown turned upside down
Thankfully, Vegas is a round-the-clock affair ... so maybe we can make the most of it yet.
Cross your fingers.