I jump or dance or spin.
I do something physical, like a hard run.
I like to talk it out with someone.
“Well, isn’t that special?”
“Who loves ya, baby?”
“Good night and good luck.”
“Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!”
How much I love my family and friends.
All the things I have to get done.
My pet peeves.
That time my ex did something awful to me.
My latest hobby or interest.
Meeting new people.
Feeling frustrated or overwhelmed.
Missing high school.
It takes a few drinks, but then I get really bubbly.
I definitely have to overindulge for the effects to be obvious.
I can put away more than most people.
I have the alcohol tolerance of a tank.
I probably proposed to someone.
There is a high likelihood I got into a fistfight.
I most likely cried.
Probably a lot of dancing and a lot of singing.
Sadly, I probably curled up in front of the couch and watched Netflix.
Nah, I don’t have the energy.
I jump up and start dancing with my friend, duh!
I was the one who led the way to the dance floor.
I get annoyed that they interrupted my conversation.
No one ever asks me to dance…