Uuuhuhhhuuuuuugggghhhhhh.

Despite my lineage, location, and place in time fully conspiring against this, I am not a drinker. I've never been terribly fond of alcohol, and it's never held much appeal for me.

Zod knows why I decided to have a bloody martini tonight (the dessert-in-a-glass that was a Rumchata Salted Caramel Martini, holy hell).

Sometimes I'm impetuous and make poor decisions. And I learn the hard way not to repeat them.

So, Note to Self: That which tastes delicious does not necessarily require imbibing (or consuming) and is likely to cause debilitating stom pains and discomfort.

It is not worth it, seriously, even if it -does- initially calm my incessantly anxious brain to stoner-level chill.