I woke up this morning with what I call the "Guilt Hangover" I get it every time I have a couple drinks the night before, but didn't get drunk. What happens is: I lie in bed staring at the beautiful crisp sunlight filtering in from my window and wonder why the hell I am not still asleep, then think about all the calories I ingested the night before and wish I was being pestered to hurry up and get on a movie set so I can blow all my energy performing and not feeling sorry for myself. On Saturday mornings, I generally have a whole lot of nothing I need to do. I mean, I have stuff to do, but nothing pressing enough to get me out of bed before 10:30am.
I feel as though the fantastic week I just had has somehow faded into memory and I am right back to where I was before all the events of the week unfolded, just: sitting in my room wishing I had my own apartment and wondering what I'm going to do to make my life worth waking up for today. Guilt Hangovers are really no fun, and are generally the reason I don't drink a whole lot.
As for my amazing week: a week filled with sleep-overs in Brooklyn (mwahahaha!!), a conversationally charged first date with an incredibly gorgeous, world-travlling, 6-language-speaking, European male Adonis (omigawd omigawd omigawd!! By the way...), great notes in class, several nights filled with improv shows and a poetry reading (where I actually got up and read for the first time!!) Is it truly over? Do I need to start a new week over again and begin a new set of really cool things I did the past 7 days? Ugh. Makes me want to lie in bed and stare at the sunlight until my eyes hurt and I close them and sleep for another few hours.
Oh, but Guilt Hangovers don't let one sleep. Wake the hell up, Nat, get out to the world and maybe get your nails done, or something. Maybe you'll meet a Mr. Awesome on the way to the salon, right?
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