The Second Coming Of Dennis

The 'guest' room, aka my office, is all disinfected and prepped for Dennis' visit tomorrow. It honestly took two full weeks to clean that mess up, including cleaning the drapes, blinds, and scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing everywhere. Most of the time was taken up sorting through all the papers from the last ten years that had piled up. It was quite interesting, kind of like archeology. Each mountain of papers was like reliving the past, and in the process I rediscovered a lot of crap that I had totally forgotten. Most of it was just stupid things that should have been tossed or shredded the day they came into my life.

Dennis has warned me that I can expect to spend a lot of time drinking over the next week, so in anticipation I have been in training for the last four days. My biggest problem is that I cannot keep up with Dennis drink for drink. He is Irish after all, and can drink me under the table. Hell, he could out-drink David Hasselhoff, and still be able to eat a cheeseburger while standing up. I tell you this so that during the next week, if it seems like I am not putting my all into my story telling, you will understand why. I will be hung-over. And don't give me a lecture about drinking too much, because it doesn't necessarily mean that I drank too much vodka. It only takes three drinks to get me drunk, and three drinks are not that much.