paging betty ford

i've got that scary feeling that you get after a big night and the next morning everyone's asking "so, did you get home alright?" "you actually made it in?" "how are you feeling this morning?"

what the hell did i do last night?

i don't think it was anything particularly scandalous. as far as i know, i arrived home with all of my clothes on, no sick in my hair, nothing too out of the ordinary, though i was probably blinking funny (my contacts get dry when i drink) and not walking in a straight line. but, i don't think i did anything too mortifying.

at least i hope not.

i was out with co-workers. (hence the uber-intoxication--nothing like having a go at it on the company tab)

i was also out with the executive VP.

whoops.

ah well. that just means i must be utterly industrious and productive today, a model little worker bee, prove that i'm a professional in more ways than one.

which would be much, much easier if i weren't stilll slightly drunk and feeling utterly alien within my own skin.

time to go learn about leeds, "cultural capital of northern england."

wheeeeee! beep.