When you party on a Monday, you feel like a baller. I mean, only the coolest of the people party on Mondays. Fact.
Jess was in town for work and asked if she could crash at my apartment. Um, duh. I love having visitors. And I love Jess even more. We’re pretty hot and heavy right now.
I take any and every opportunity I can to eat the crab and artichoke dip at Old Ebbitt. It’s seriously what dreams were made of. If you ever visit me, we will go there and eat it. I’m a giver like that. You’re welcome in advance.
Of course, there was wine involved. And girl talk of the most inappropriate kind. And when you get going down that road, it’s hard to stop.
So we didn’t. We moved to the bar, and then when Kelly had to leave (despite my desperate pleas for her to stay in DC with us so we could keep the party going) we moved it to the apartment so Jess and Tom could bond.
We opened another bottle of wine and talked for hour or so before finally crashing. It was a blast, and I was so, so happy to have the opportunity to see Jess.
But when we reunited the next morning, there was a twinge of regret in our eyes.
Because when you party on a Monday, you wake up to find that it is Tuesday. And that is not baller. Not at all.
It was not a pretty day. Feeling like ass on a Saturday is one thing, but when you have to function AND there’s a whole week of work ahead of you it’s a bad time.
But all was not lost. I did make it to the eye doctor to have my sight mostly restored.
The corneas are no longer swollen and I spent 200 large on a year’s supply of new contacts with a strict admonishment from the doctor about making sure I change them every month. Yeah, I may have tried to stretch them out to 3 or 4 months to save money. How else was I going to buy enough shoes to get me through 2012? Sigh.
And after partying on a Monday, what do you eat for dinner? An entire order of pad Thai, in under ten minutes. It’s the only way you’ll survive. Trust me on that one.