What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas - and also gets spread around the office

So tonight, we’re going to Vegas. I think a new rule of office conduct is not to tell your co-workers too many details about your out of work plans. For one, most people around here’s weekends consist of mowing the lawn or taking the family to wal-mart. So I let a few too many people know I’m going to Vegas this weekend. And that I went out last night for my birthday. So today, I stumbled in a half hour late and couple of my cubey friends said “Did you have fun last night?” or “where’d you go, who’d you see, what’d you do?!” Couldn’t’ they see that I was hung-over? I mean I’m wearing an outfit that doesn’t match (what are the odds of finding a matching outfit on the floor of your closet with your eyes closed?) my hair’s insane, my eyes are so bloodshot I may have to change my eye color on my drivers liscense to “red” for Vegas, so that I match my ID, and if I’d remembered to wear nylons, they would surely have had runs in them.

So I was trying to explain to one girl how crazy last night was and how I don’t even know what time I actually went to bed, or how my alarm clock went off on time. So I said “I got up really early this morning.” When I meant to say “I didn’t go to bed till really late last night.” So she just kinda confused and was like “Oh… cool.” Forget it, I’m not even gonna try to say complete sentences to people this morning.

When I woke up this morning, my alarm was blaring way louder than it ever has before and all of a sudden Maria walked into my room. She apparently slept on my couch. I have no idea how I got to bed, or when I got to bed. But I do know I forgot to take out my contacts. So that added to my general nasty feeling this morning. The sad thing is, I can’t even remember the facts of this morning that well, much less last night! So Maria left at some point, and I tried to get ready to go. So all I needed was my car keys and my phone and we’re good to go. Hmm.. where’s my cell phone? Crap, it’s gone. I left it in Claire’s car and now it’s an hour away. So I just grab my purse, which is in its usual state of day-after-going-outness, with my ID and credit card floating around lose and all sorts of stuff missing. I stumble to the trolley in reasonable good time and suddenly realize I forgot my security badge. So I had to get a dinky replacement one from security, which I’m sure I’ll forget to turn back in since I can’t seem to remember anything lately.

I tried to go to the cafeteria to find something to make me feel better. I figured orange juice would be good to rehydrate me. (I’m sure my triathalon friend, triatholon-Jake is right now yellilng at the computer about how that’s so not true and how could I possible think that was good for a hangover because of OJ’s low electrolyte omega vitamin D inibitor balance or something, but I’m a novice when it comes to healthy foods) But the cafeteria only had giant soda cups for juice! The smallest one is 36 ounces! What kind of weirdos work here that consider 36 ounces a small? And what kind of people need at least 36 ounces of any liquid?! So now I have this vat of orange juice on my desk which is inevitable gonna spill everywhere. Everytime I take a drink from it I feel like it's going to drown me.

I’ll let you know how Vegas goes…