White lightning hit the family tree

 Today isn't great. I fear I will be a mess at the concert tonight. Steven was so good at singing Chris Young. It always sounded good. If the bar had a jukebox, that was his first stop after getting drinks. He wanted to hear Neon. My insides are dizzy just thinking about it. So many memories attached to lots of his songs. Doesn't help that I know exactly what he would be wearing to this concert if he was here, and he'd give me his hat because it looked beautiful on me. It's a weird day where I want to be sad. I want to skip this afternoon and spend it at home. I'm tired of being distracted from my feelings between the bake sale, work seminars, kick boxing, halloween parade...this is not how I should be managing myself. I want a sloppy, crying, dramatic, ridiculous drunk. Not to cover the sad feelings, but to give me an opportunity to just show them. Get them out of my head. Get them out of my gut. Get them out of my eyes. I want an opportunity for my disaster to appear socially acceptable, and 'round these parts that means whiskey.