Comments: How am I supposed to get any work done with all these pink elephants on my desk?

The humiliation always drives me to the place I sit today: looking for an excuse or some other cause for 1) the drunkenness and 2) the hangover. Anything other than aligning myself with the rest of the pedestrians who, upon occasion, drink too much. Like starting to drink mimosa's with my friend maud at one in the afternoon, and then, after suffering a supremely girly (and frightening in its increasing frequency) bout with the "I am so fucking fat"'s in the afternoon, resume drinking until I left for a birthday party at a bar, where I drank even more. So sue me. And stop talking so Goddamn loud. And turn that light off.