Southie

The Art of making it Through a Monday After Sunday Funday

Sunday Funday starts with Brunch. Get out of bed and put on a statement outfit head to chosen destination and get the day rolling. Things start escalating at different levels.

After consuming a wide range of alcoholic beverages … cider beer (pairs excellent with the hangover), vodka grapefruits (splash of cran), mimosas (obligatory),  sangria (why the hell not), shots of DRs (your feeling ill after all), coffee (+ baileys and whiskey obviously), a few beers, and finally chardonnay (nothing like ending the day with 1-5 glasses of chard, am i right?) some how, it’s 7AM and your alarm is going off, wait, no, that’s not your alarm, who’s phone is this? Oh, you found a Sunday Husband! No time to think, no time to ask questions this is where you need to step into go mode, you’re late and on a mission: 1. get coffee 2. get to work. I like to approach this utter confusion by taking a quick shower and throwing on something extra professional. Looking put together gives me the confidence I need to face the day. My coworkers will never know I spent 8 hours sitting on various Southie bar stools yesterday, while I am spending 8 agonizing hours sitting in my office chair convulsing and simultaneously texting/snapchatting my friends about it. Today isn’t going to be productive. Make a list, what NEEDS to be done. Do it. Get lunch, come back to work, and read various blogs for the afternoon. Sounds simple, it’s not. The work place is going to seem like a battle field, spoiler: you aren’t winning! Your boss is going to want a 1:1 meeting, oh great. Earlier today I almost fell  asleep in a meeting with my boss and he asked if I was OK, and suggested I have a coffee… at the end of the meeting he actually said “I will go buy you a coffee”. So I’m sleeping in my bosses office, But I have on a really nice j.crew pencil skirt, my theory is out the window, the outfit isn’t actually helping. The day will have ups and downs, mostly downs. 2:00 PM, oh three hours left, I can make it! 2:10 PM, two hours and 50 minutes left, I’m nevverrrrr going to make it. 2:11 PM my head is so heavy I must rest it on my desk.

Eventually, the moment you thought would never arrive, arrives.  IT’S 5:00 PM.

I can feel soft flannel of my LLBean pillowcase against my cheek and my down comforter wrapped around me, providing the perfect amount of warmth. How fast can I walk that mile home? I feel so weak. Somehow, I will muster up the energy, motivated by the thought of taking the god damn skirt off, climbing into bed and embarking on a Netflix binge!

Congratulations, you made it… 4 days until the weekend!

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Burnt

Saturday afternoon, 4pm, STATS in Southie….

Ruby arrives, we have a few drinks, and decide it’s a good idea to talk to about 4 different groups of guys… none of them want anything to do with us. We smoke a cig along the side of the bar, so no one “sees us” smoking.  At this point a few hours have passed and I’m now drinking heavily…. I think a guy in a Star Wars t-shirt was hitting on us. The night was over at this point. I take a cab home, as I do not live in Southie, get dropped off a few blocks before my house since I was low on cash… I start smoking another cig and talk to a  homeless girl for a few minutes, I gave her a snack that I had in my purse from work on Friday and then walked the rest of the way home. This is a good opportunity to explore what went wrong this night….

I think I had pizza in the cab over to STATS and had been drinking chardonnay with friends that afternoon- this being said, my judgement was most likely “a little” impaired.

The conversations with “said hotties” were probably things only me and Ruby found funny at the time… aka high chance we were acting like drunk assholes.

I don’t want to be too harsh on myself and I do learn from my mistakes so I will stop at that. I’m open to any outside commentary, so please do share…