Last Chance

Fuck.

I fell asleep. I didn’t want to, but it happened anyway. I don’t know what the fuck happened. I was texting Julie and Annette, I told them I wasn’t feeling myself. I was awake for a bit… what time was it… shit where are those messages I sent them? I was texting Annette and I was feeling rough but I thought I could sort it out. Where are the messages? What did I say to them? I asked Annette to cover for me but she said she couldn’t this time. I asked a couple of people but of course, it’s Saturday, nobody’s available at the last minute on Saturday. Who can cover at the last minute on Saturday? Nobody. That’s why they’re stuck with me, because they don’t have anyone else who can do it. Nobody’s going to cover at the last minute on a Saturday. What was I thinking?

Oh here they are. 8.44am. 8.20am. I was texting and I thought I could work it out. I must have passed out. Then I woke up five hours later to a bunch of missed calls and I knew I fucked up bad.

I was trying so hard. I was trying to get it together.

I woke up in the middle of the night. Was it 3am? 4am? It’s a bit of a blur. I remember I was drinking on Thursday night. I must have been drinking. I remember having a conversation with a girl who used to think she was a cat, and then Ben came over. I must have been drunk already. That was Thursday night. Now it’s Saturday.

It was my last chance and I’ve blown it.