I would be the worst rock star. Stage fright aside, I simply can't party like one.
Yes, my life in NYC was hectic...I did go to lots of parties, but there were also many nights I stayed in snuggling with AJ, watching a movie and ordering pizza. I also RARELY drink when I am in NYC.
Who knew that my inner party girl would be unleashed in Hanoi? Does that even make any sense?
Thursday was a tough day: I dropped my phone in the sink, my organization screwed me over (shocker) and I was feeling the first signs of being ill. I had planned to pop a sleeping pill and sleep early but somehow I ended up going downtown to meet up with some people in town, just for a drink or two.
I stumbled back outside at 6:30am. I managed to make it home, called Alex like 65 times before finally falling asleep at 7:30am.
Staying out all night is something that I have NEVER done before and now I know why: I'm not programmed to handle it.
My extensive Friday plans (hair cut, pedicure, shopping) were obliterated as I was forced to spend all day in bed. My body revolted when I tried to do anything other than sleep. Somehow, I managed to I drag myself out of bed around 5pm and tried to get ready for another night out. I had been long awaiting Ladies Night at the Press Club and refused to miss it...as it turns out my performance was pathetic...I sipped water and sat in a corner silently because I barely had the energy to do anything else.
My body decided that it would punish me even more so it inflicted a debilitating cold and cough on me to force me into quiet recuperation.
So that's where I am now. In bed, surrounded by tissues and sounding like a man with a sexy hacking cough.
Maybe it's time to accept that I'm more like Mandy Moore than Mick Jagger.