"Good morning, Vietnam!"

The inner monologue of a still drunk / the most hungover girl in the world.
Anything in italics is an actual thought. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

“What time is it?! Oh my god, I’m so late for work. I’m so so so late.” He runs around, gets dressed, washes his face, and brushes his teeth.

Yeah right, I’m sure you’re late. This is a lot of effort just to get me out, I have to leave anyway…



I make moves, find my belongings, and bend down to put on my boots. “What a night huh? I can’t believe I forgot to set my alarm.” He gives my butt a little love tap. I didn’t hate it. He is freakin’ hot. Well done. I guess he really is late for work. He works?! Duh, I knew that.

“Where do you need to go?” Right, like you’re really going to take me where I need to go when you’re two hours late for work and you didn’t get any last night…well maybe a little bit. “I work across the bridge. Can I drop you in Georgetown?” Yeah, fine, whatever I’m actually feeling great.

In the car: “Do you remember walking this whole way last night!” I can’t believe I walked all of this. Why did we do that? “You insisted on walking, I told you we could get a cab.” That’s why. And that’s why my feet are killing me!

It’s better that he’s late and we’re rushed…I hate the awkward goodbye. Do we kiss? Do we hug? Shake hands? Ugh. Just say bye and get out. Make it quick and painless. “See ya!”

Why did I think taking the metro would be a good idea right now? Oh, right, I’m on a budget. My feet hurt. And just what are you looking at? Sunglasses, good idea. I have to pee. Is this really the one day I don’t have a pair of shades in my bag?! Ok I think I need to sit. Am I really going to sit on the metro floor? You could just lean against the wall…

Butt starts sliding but I do nothing to stop it. Butt hits ground. I am that girl sitting on the metro floor. Hey, at least it’s clean. Why is this kid standing so close to me? My head is heavy, put it in your hands. I’m glad I sat, I have to wait 8 more minutes for this dumb train. I have to pee so badly it hurts.

The lights are flashing, the train is approaching. Get up. Or I could just stay here all day, that would be nice. I don’t wanna move.

This is the longest train ride ever. I keep forgetting my phone is dead. Damnit. I have to pee.

When I get out of this metro station, I’m taking my boots off. I don’t care how ridiculous that is, I have a good walk from the metro to home. My feet hurt. I have to peeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Small children. I’m probably scaring them. People are judging me, I’m practically falling asleep standing up. Haven’t you ever seen someone hung over before?!

Alright, up the escalator, here we go. I have a scowl on my face, I know it. I look like sh!t. Wow, the last time I was at this metro station this early I was going the opposite direction. I’ve hooked up in that building. It’s pretty ironic that I live on the same street as Newseum man boy. Ohh the memories.



Oooo a Cosi, go pee there. Keep your shoes on until after Cosi. Pretend to be on the phone so you don’t have to acknowledge the workers. You’re not buying anything. You are that girl who uses the bathroom without buying anything. Omg look at that bread, it looks so good right now.

Should I get food here before I leave? No, save the 12 bucks. You have food at home. What am I gonna eat at home? Salad? Popcorn? Soup? Ehh nothing sounds appealing. So I guess soup with a string cheese it is! Womp womp.

No toilet paper?! Are you kidding. HAHAHAHAHA this would happen. “I don’t have a square to spare.” Such a classic. Elaine is definitely my favorite character. Or Kramer. Tough one. Or Newman.

Wow, mental note to avoid all mirrors. It is actually as bad as you thought it was. My hair is literally on top of my head. This is funny. You should write a blog post about this. I want the G2 Gatorade that’s sitting my in fridge. Good call on buying that by the way. Last night was a lot of fun.



Ok, walking now. Ugh, I hate that my phone is dead. I want to see my text messages. JC better be thankful that my friggen phone is dead or else I’d be cursing him out via text for serving me Jame-o at 6pm. This is all his fault. G2 Gatorade. I can’t believe I made it to Rhino after the Whale. Wait, I saw Chris last night! Oh my god you shut your mouth, I saw Alexa last night too! G2 Gatorade.


Ok, I give in. Taking my shoes off. I try and stumble. Attempt number one: fail. On attempt number two, I’m doing it. Ahhhh relief. Move your ass. Sh!t, going shoeless might hurt worse. Hahah you’re a loser, now you’re trying to think funny things on purpose just so you can write about them.

Home, finally. I should have a package in the mail room…that’s what she said. This ones mine, this ones mine, this ones mine and this one. Damn, four packages! How am I going to carry all of this? Good thing I never see anyone in my building because I am quite a sight to see. Take two trips? I think not. You’re still drunk, you will try to carry all four. Easy does it, you can do it. Well since my boots are resting on top of the boxes, at least they completely hide my face.



Nooooooooooo I NEVER MADE MY BED!!! THE WORST. The worst the worst the worst. Eff it, who needs sheets? “Eff shoes. Who needs shoes?!” Ahh Dane Cook, you kill me. First things first, G2 Gatorade how ya doing?


Sassarella Says…for whatever reason when I’m hung over my body moves like a snail but my mind moves a mile a minute. This happened awhile back, of course I made a bunch of notes on it, but I can’t say it’s the first or the last time I have the most ridiculous and repetitive thoughts in the first few hours of being awake after a night out. Thankfully, I was able to laugh at myself throughout the entire hour it took me to commute home. Sassarella also says good luck going to the Front Page for happy hour, see if you come out alive.

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About sasssays

The trials, the tribulations, and the triumphs of a sassy and sophisticated 20 something girl
This entry was posted in Totally Random, Weekend Warrior. Bookmark the permalink.

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