Every Thought That Goes Through Your Head After Getting Hammered At A Work Event

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Every Thought That Goes Through Your Head After Getting Hammered At A Work Event

Can’t sugarcoat it. Yeah, we had a work event last night. And yeah, I got super hammered. And sure, this is every thought that’s currently going through my head (which also has a pounding headache because I thought it was a good idea to drink two 32-ounce sangrias at the bar after dinner).

Do I lie to everyone and tell them I feel fine, or will everyone think I’m a try-hard?

This is horrible.

Where’s Rachel? She was just as drunk as I was so maybe I can make comments about how hammered she was last night to take the focus off of me.

How did I manage to spend $40 when we had an open bar and a company tab?

Does anyone realize I’m still hammered right now?

I’m going to respond to every email with, “Sounds great! I’ll look into this!”

Is it too early to plan an overly expensive dinner tonight to make me feel like a functioning member of society?

May take a two-hour lunch break.

An hour of that will be just me with my head on my steering wheel.

And the other hour will just be me sitting at Chili’s debating whether or not to get a Bloody Mary.

I should email my mom.

Does my breath smell like booze right now? I should get a mint.

Why am I wearing this fucking shirt?

All the coffee in the world couldn’t make me feel normal right now.

I want to listen to Spotify, but I don’t want people to see me listening to Sunday Night Kill Myself on a Friday.

I don’t think I’m going to throw up, but is it the worst idea if I take my laptop to the handicap stall?

I bet everyone in accounting feels great. Get off your high horses, assholes.

May just Costanza this and sleep under my desk rn.

I wonder if our break room has any Advil in it. There’s a zero-percent I get up and find out.

How much will our office administrator hate me if I chat her and ask?

If this motherfucker next to me keeps coughing, I may just quit.

Okay. I know I danced. But there’s a huge difference between dancing for song and dragging people onto the dancefloor. I’m not sure where I fall.

Everything hurts.

I need someone to proofread this email. Between the shakes and how brainless I am, it looks like I have Tourettes but in type form.

Did Caroline seriously just email me asking for a status report on this? I bet she worked out this morning, that uppity bitch.

I’m about to set the world record for most double-handed face wipes before lunch.

If I go to the store and get a Mike’s Hard and mix it with iced tea, will anyone notice?

I feel like everyone can see it in my eyes that something happened last night.

Is it too late to take a sick day?

I remember telling our CEO that I was “drunk AF,” but I’m really hoping that he doesn’t remember.

Fuck. I almost just spilled coffee on my keyboard. Sure, it’d mean I don’t have to work for a few hours but I don’t want HR to smell the vodka on my breath when I explain to them what happened.

Everyone hates me here.

Man, it’s crazy that I’m going to do this all over again tonight.

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