Here you sit again, hungover, broke, and with no prospects. You’ve got no clean clothes, every dish in the house is dirty, and all your bills are due.
After rummaging through junk drawers and pants pockets, you find enough money for either some groceries or a bottle of booze and a pack of smokes. You look at the cash, and your stomach growls.
The mountain of postponed duties totters overhead, threatening to crush you if you pile on one more wasted day. Pocketing the money, you head out the door. Today is the day you stop being such a googgatate.