Hump Day From Hell

I drank too much last night. The a/c is not working in the office. It's hot, I'm hungover, and the Benadryl I popped this morning to cure an unfortunate bout of hives isn't helping the situation.

I left the office at 5:30 to meet my friend J, eager to hear about his weekend(s) of debauchery which included rooftop hotels in NYC, one Gay Pride parade in Boston, and one rendezvous in the back of a parked ambulance. Clearly, cocktails were needed for these stories.

We found ourselves at an outside bar in Boston called "The Times." The food was blah. The atmosphere was fine, but mostly because we were sitting outside. There was an intense game of darts happening inside, which is fine except that the dart board was located next to the women's room (reserve comments, please). I was forced to do the duck-and-squeeze maneuver every time I needed to go to bathroom. This became increasingly complicated as I continued to drink the cheap red wine they were serving. I miss Rome.

I also miss being young. Ok, 32 isn't old, but it's not 23. I used to have J's stamina. His stories of
bar-bathroom escapades and secret sexual encounters in forbidden places are sinful, and yet, I wish I had the energy to do one-quarter of the living he does.

J and I stayed until 9:30-ish -- I'm guessing our departure time by the time of my last text message (according to my phone, which I checked this morning). I don't remember too much more of the night, but unfortunately, I remember this morning.

I woke up, thanks to a horrible allergic reaction I was having from something that clearly bit me in the middle of the night. That alone pisses me off, but now I have to find the Benadryl and hope this goes away. I crawled into work around 8:00 a.m. and attemped to revive myself with a large iced coffee. I'm still waiting for the caffeine to kick in. To make matters worse, I've indulged in greasy pizza for lunch and it is making me horribly sick.

This is the Hump Day from hell.