This is why I drink.

Yesterday my roommate Ashlee and I spent nearly five hours trying to put a dresser together.  We may have taken a two-three hour nap in the middle of that five, but I am not counting it out because I had nightmares of missing screws and 100 page direction booklets in twelve languages (none of which seemed to be English). 

For those of you who have ever put together a piece of furniture, you know the horror I speak of all too well.  There were tears, swears, and cocktails. We had to take assembled pieces apart several times, and I would also like to add that even though we have finished, there are about fifteen (unexplainable) left over parts.  

Putting together poorly constructed furniture is only one of the reasons responsible for my alcoholism. On that note, I thought it would be fun to start a semi-regular post about all the reasons why I can’t keep wine stocked in my apartment.

Babies on planes.  It never fails that the sweet, sleeping, child in the row in front of me will wake up in a fit of wild rage five minutes after take off and continue to be pissed until we touch down on the runway.  

Jury duty.  As far as I am concerned, if I have to wake up early and pancakes and/or bacon are not involved, everyone is guilty.  

Ex-boyfriends.  Since we are done dating, aren’t you supposed to move away to ex-island? *patent pending* I see you would rather stay here and show up everywhere I am going to be for the rest of my life. Let me guess, you will have your new girlfriend in tow as well. Fiancée, my mistake. Could you please pass me that bottle?

The line at Kuma’s Corner.  You want to pretend it is not worth waiting for, but deep down, you know it is.   It sooooooo is. The sheer thought of the word “Kuma” makes you salivate. You can even try to fool yourself by going to another burger place and telling yourself it’s just as good, but it’s like having frozen yogurt when you really want ice cream…It’s bullshit, and you know it.