H is for Hangover…

I went to my friend (and also my new roommate!) Lindsay’s house last night to hang out with the people I work with. The equivalent of more than 10 shots of vodka later, we were eating “Sex Mix” (known to real people as “Chex Mix”) throwing things at each other, and whining about how much we wanted pizza. Well, the pizza thing was pretty much me.

Also, things got a little crazy in the office romance department, because I think two people may have had a little sex mix of their own. BUT IT WASN’T ME! And I absolutely mean that. I did end up staying the night, though. On the couch. By myself. Ordinarily I’d prefer that someone sleep with me, just for the spooning benefits, but this time, I’m glad that I was A to the L-O-N-E. You just don’t want to spoon within the office.

So, in a very classy manuever we like to call NOT taking the walk of shame the next morning, and as part of another manuever we like to call NOT being present when the happy ( and awkward) couple comes up the stairs the next morning, I left – in my car – at 7:00 a.m.

And now, in a manuever passed down from all the sorority girls before me, I’m going back to bed. And sleeping until noon. After all, sleeping in your own bed, by yourself, is the classiest manuever of all.

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