So, by 12 p.m. yesterday, I finally felt like I had recovered from St. Patrick’s Day. After calling in late to work on Wednesday, eating Wendy’s twice (my arteries and heart hate me) and drinking a glass of Chianti before bed, I started to feel halfway human again.
Most people would see this as a sign to give their liver a break for the night and enjoy their hangover-free self. Not me. I decided pounding 40s with The Hoff and his roommates would be a great way to celebrate the absence of a headache, upset stomach and cotton mouth.
Let’s just say that my body and I are frenemies today. I’ve been giving it little pep talks throughout the day like “suck it up” and “get over it,” but it refuses to listen. Stubborn bitch.
Whatever, I'll show it who's boss tonight. I have plans that have been set for over a month that I refuse to let some measly little hangover stand in the way of.
Tonight, I’m going with Just Jack to an all-Britney night at a fantabulous gay bar in D.C. That’s right, kids, all-Britney. Britney music videos, Britney karaoke, Britney trivia…my life will be complete after tonight. And I just found out there’s no cover charge if you’re dressed like Brit Brit. I’m thinking I may just have to partake in this. When else (besides Halloween) can you dress like the pop princess herself?! Love it, love it, love it!
Just Jack is picking me up at 9:15 and I’ve already been forewarned that my ass better be ready on time.
Just Jack: I can swing by and pick you up on my way in. But since I’m the organizer of this shindig and I have a few co-workers coming, it’s important to me that I get there on time.
Me: Haha-understood.
Just Jack: Love you, mean it.
Me: I know. These little pep talks of yours are not only essential for me to make an extra effort to be on time, but for you to keep your sanity.
Let’s hope for Just Jack’s sake that I’m all-Britnied out and ready to go by 9:15.
Most people would see this as a sign to give their liver a break for the night and enjoy their hangover-free self. Not me. I decided pounding 40s with The Hoff and his roommates would be a great way to celebrate the absence of a headache, upset stomach and cotton mouth.
Let’s just say that my body and I are frenemies today. I’ve been giving it little pep talks throughout the day like “suck it up” and “get over it,” but it refuses to listen. Stubborn bitch.
Whatever, I'll show it who's boss tonight. I have plans that have been set for over a month that I refuse to let some measly little hangover stand in the way of.
Tonight, I’m going with Just Jack to an all-Britney night at a fantabulous gay bar in D.C. That’s right, kids, all-Britney. Britney music videos, Britney karaoke, Britney trivia…my life will be complete after tonight. And I just found out there’s no cover charge if you’re dressed like Brit Brit. I’m thinking I may just have to partake in this. When else (besides Halloween) can you dress like the pop princess herself?! Love it, love it, love it!
Just Jack is picking me up at 9:15 and I’ve already been forewarned that my ass better be ready on time.
Just Jack: I can swing by and pick you up on my way in. But since I’m the organizer of this shindig and I have a few co-workers coming, it’s important to me that I get there on time.
Me: Haha-understood.
Just Jack: Love you, mean it.
Me: I know. These little pep talks of yours are not only essential for me to make an extra effort to be on time, but for you to keep your sanity.
Let’s hope for Just Jack’s sake that I’m all-Britnied out and ready to go by 9:15.
1 comments on "Hang in there Liver, We've Got Lots to do!"
Sorry, Just Jack. I tried, I really tried. Love you, mean it.
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