You put the phone back on your makeshift nightstand and snuggle back under covers, intent on getting more sleep. It eludes you as the tought off the missed calls and text messages drag you further into wakefulness. You did have plans today, though in your hungover state you can't remember exactly what you agreed to last night.

A hand emerges from the sheets as you give in and check you phone again now that it's silent. One missed call and two messages from Stacey and one message from Trevor but no calls. The phone beeps and a vibrates in your hand. Three missed calls and a message from work. You thumb through the text messages as bits of drunken conversation filter through your mind.

Trevor: Greg canceled, wanna go shooting with me? 9 am slot, two lanes ;)

Stacey: Killian's cool with it. I'll get you at 8:00

Stacey: Running late, be there at 9:00. Don't forget sunscreen.

Those do a lot to light a flame of rememberance. Trevor, a friend with too much money and too many firearms wanted to spend today expending bullets at paper zombie targets. Afterwards would be beer and lunch, not a bad start to a Saturday.

Stacey desperately wanted you to go to some weekend live action role-playing things in the mountains. Something with elves, tiny packets of rice, and padded weapons. It would be more fun if they removed the padded part and the closest you ever get to role-play is dressing up in Renessaince garb and heading to the festival once a year. She insists it will be fun and sometime last night, in your drunken state, you must have agreed to go.

But it's Saturday... There's a part of you that wants to sleep until noon, then hang out in your pajamas with Netflix and delivered pizza. Maybe, just maybe, you'll work a shower into that plan. You close the messaging app and return to the home screen.

It's almost 8, time to make a decision and let people know.




Kill zombies! Drink beer!

Let's play pretend and check out cleavage in bodices.

Dammit, I want to sleep!