An Open Letter To My Hungover Self At Work On A Monday Morning
Dear Ashley,
Good job! Once again it's a bleak Monday morning and your head is pounding through your skull. Why would you ever think it was acceptable to go out on a Sunday night? Didn't you get into enough trouble over the weekend? Your sheets are smeared with bad decisions and ash and every outfit you tried on Friday night is still sprawled across your floor.
Instead of doing the responsible thing and getting your sh*t back together, you took the easy way out -- you kept the bender going. But now you must pay the price because, alas, it is a work day!
You begrudgingly pulled a pair of leggings out from under your bed and put on the same pair of socks from the day before. Nice one, you're really ready to conquer this day.
You exited your apartment with your head hung low and followed the trail of crumbs from the front door to the elevator that you must have left the night before during your drunk binge-eating session.
Awesome, glad those Kettle Chips, Sour Patch Kids and four slices of pizza will sit in your stomach all day long because there's no way your hungover ass is making it to the gym. Your awful inability to exhibit self-control really has reared its ugly head once again. Aren't you so glad you put down a $450 deposit on a summer share house?
Damn it, guess this serves as a good excuse to buy yet another beach cover up.
Yes, these are the ridiculous thoughts that went through your mind as you dragged yourself across the city and finally into your seat at your desk. You honestly don't even remember the trek to work since you may still be drunk -- at least by DUI standards.
You think getting up, getting ready and getting yourself to work would be enough, but no, you actually have work to do. Were those sh*tty vodka sodas REALLY worth it? No, they never are, but you will never learn your lesson, will you?
You scrolled through Facebook for a solid two hours while simultaneously browsing Revolve Clothing for things you could never even hope to afford. The work you need to get to is literally and figuratively piling up on your desk as you push it aside to make room for your Venti coffee.
Even the Starbucks barista could tell you were hungover, I mean why else would she give you a free breakfast sandwich?
Man, life is so hard sometimes, isn't it? Well yes, yes it is, especially if you live it in a cloud of hungover-ness. Maybe next time you will think before you drink because you certainly aren't thinking after you've already started drinking.
Sincerely,
A Nice Reality Check
