Vodka
Dear Vodka,
None of this is going to be easy for me to say, and I am sure, as well, it will not be easy for you to hear. I am sure you have noticed I have not been around for a multiple days now. I would imagine, knowing how your mind works, that you think this has something to do with Mardi Gras. Vodka, it doesn’t, in fact I was pleasantly surprised at how well you behaved yourself during that entire day.
See, it’s just without you I seem to get so much more done. I wake up before noon, I write, I read, and I don’t constantly have vomit crawling up my esophagus trying desperately to see the light of day. And, lets face it you are no cheap date. You are running me dry. Besides the idea of spending my money on a nice fat vacation lying on the beach in the sun over powers my desire to drink you, say stupid shit and fall on my face, you can call me stupid I know that seem irrational. I do realize that you go hand in hand with my job of waiting on folks, and more often than not servers count on you and your family (ie beer, wine, Tuacca and Jager) to get them through one last night, but I just cannot do it anymore.
Perhaps it would be best to say I have grown out of you. Or gotten too old for you. Or maybe more so, that you bore me. I hate the way you make my face look after I’ve spent sometime with you. And I hate waking up after a night with you and realizing that once again you erased my memory enough so that I can’t remember where the bruises on my leg came from, but not enough to be well aware that I said stupid shit.
I know this isn’t coming as a surprise to you as we have spent less and less time together in the past year or so. And trust me it’s not like we can’t still be friends. I mean I don’t mind seeing you from time to time, but the serious relationship just isn’t working for me anymore. Let’s say we get together on holidays and special occasions?
I will never forget you. I will never forget the time you gave me the courage to get up on stage and read the first time, or the time you gave Tom the courage to put the moves on me (the older woman) in a very childish way. I think back to the first time I stole you from my friend’s parents liquor cabinet, or how after a long day of teaching children, you managed to make everything funny. You are a talented friend Mr. Vodka, a talented friend.
I realize that leaving you means we will have a few things to split up. You may keep the friends that I only saw when you were around. Truthfully I believe you were the only thing we ever had in common anyway. I will keep the pictures from when we were together because shit, some of those are funny. You can have the hangovers. I do however get Tom, because with or without you that guy keeps me laughing and makes me goofy, and he’s a lot cheaper than you.
In simpler terms you were getting in my way of world domination.
Love,
Katie
None of this is going to be easy for me to say, and I am sure, as well, it will not be easy for you to hear. I am sure you have noticed I have not been around for a multiple days now. I would imagine, knowing how your mind works, that you think this has something to do with Mardi Gras. Vodka, it doesn’t, in fact I was pleasantly surprised at how well you behaved yourself during that entire day.
See, it’s just without you I seem to get so much more done. I wake up before noon, I write, I read, and I don’t constantly have vomit crawling up my esophagus trying desperately to see the light of day. And, lets face it you are no cheap date. You are running me dry. Besides the idea of spending my money on a nice fat vacation lying on the beach in the sun over powers my desire to drink you, say stupid shit and fall on my face, you can call me stupid I know that seem irrational. I do realize that you go hand in hand with my job of waiting on folks, and more often than not servers count on you and your family (ie beer, wine, Tuacca and Jager) to get them through one last night, but I just cannot do it anymore.
Perhaps it would be best to say I have grown out of you. Or gotten too old for you. Or maybe more so, that you bore me. I hate the way you make my face look after I’ve spent sometime with you. And I hate waking up after a night with you and realizing that once again you erased my memory enough so that I can’t remember where the bruises on my leg came from, but not enough to be well aware that I said stupid shit.
I know this isn’t coming as a surprise to you as we have spent less and less time together in the past year or so. And trust me it’s not like we can’t still be friends. I mean I don’t mind seeing you from time to time, but the serious relationship just isn’t working for me anymore. Let’s say we get together on holidays and special occasions?
I will never forget you. I will never forget the time you gave me the courage to get up on stage and read the first time, or the time you gave Tom the courage to put the moves on me (the older woman) in a very childish way. I think back to the first time I stole you from my friend’s parents liquor cabinet, or how after a long day of teaching children, you managed to make everything funny. You are a talented friend Mr. Vodka, a talented friend.
I realize that leaving you means we will have a few things to split up. You may keep the friends that I only saw when you were around. Truthfully I believe you were the only thing we ever had in common anyway. I will keep the pictures from when we were together because shit, some of those are funny. You can have the hangovers. I do however get Tom, because with or without you that guy keeps me laughing and makes me goofy, and he’s a lot cheaper than you.
In simpler terms you were getting in my way of world domination.
Love,
Katie
posted by KatieLauren at
12:09 PM
5 Comments
