Sunday morning. Well morning is more a subjective term at this point. Sunday when you finally get up, whatever time that may be (for me, its more noonish) you feel confused. Where am I? What time is it? And then.... OH NO! WHAT HAPPENED! You sit there, in bed, your dogs jumping on you as its noon and they have to pee RACKING your brain. You recall sitting near your boss, daintily drinking a festive martini. You can remember someone trying to get kareoke going (epic fail). You were halarious when retelling the story about the crazy client and how you saved the day. Not soooo bad, maybe it's all good.
Sunday afternoon. Your phone plays that silly little song (mine is The Right Stuff by NKOTB) that plays when you get a text. Meh, it's nothing but of course you race to check it. Maybe its the cute guy who likely really did have to work and didn't blow you off early last Saturday night. But no, its the first clue as to how the night really went down. "ha ha! you were crazy fun, can't wait to see how you handle it on Monday" Oh snap!
After a mid day nap (following a quick glass of water then coffee) it's Sunday evening. You call your best girlfriend who was at the party. She's sweet and tries to sugar coat the reality (damn her for offering to be the DD, not that you even tried to fight her for it, afterall how lame would an office Christmas party be without at least enjoying the "spirit" of the season). There is a lot of "it wasn't soooo bad" and "I bet no one even noticed". The day after an office Christmas party leaves you feeling...
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