======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
Every Sunday morning, all across the country there are girls who wake up with a pounding headache and a disoriented need to figure out who’s in their bed and why they don’t have a stitch of clothing on. These girls may have started the night thinking, “I’m not really drinking too much tonight.” But then something uncontrollable happened. Below is a terrifying look into their thoughts as they attempt to sort through the sordid details of the night before and still justify to themselves that they are contributing members of society.
Ugh, I can’t move. My head is pounding. Why the fuck did I get so drunk last night? I remember pre-gaming at David’s apartment. I think I drank an entire bottle of wine on my own. We definitely opened 1… 2… 3… 3 bottles. And Carrie wasn’t drinking at all. And David and Kyle were having whiskey from Michigan. Like who the fuck drinks whiskey from Michigan? But David’s coworker had brought it back from a trip to Grand Rapids, and it was apparently a really high proof. Smelled like regular whiskey.
I need to go to the bathroom and take off the makeup that I definitely did not remove last night so I don’t look like the fucking Heath Leger Joker when he wakes up.
*goes to bathroom, takes two Advil, washes face, runs fingers through hair then gets back in bed*
What time is it? Ok, only 9. Not bad. I feel so much better than I did two hours ago.
Well he’s smiling and told me ‘good morning,’ so I guess this isn’t totally awkward. It does feel nice to have his arm around me. We can lay here for like 10 more minutes, I guess.
Ok, how is this guy still sleeping? Does he not have things to do today? I have got to take a shower. The dog needs to go out. I can’t stay in bed all day, and I would just really like him to leave right now. But how do you push someone out of your house who did THAT to you last night? I mean, I’ve been doing yoga on the reg. for two years now, but I didn’t even know my body could bend that way.
“I’m going to go take a shower, ok?”
Well, at least he’s awake now and just playing on his phone.
“Do you want coffee? I’m going to make some.”
*makes coffee, brings two mugs back to bed*
And he’s sitting up. This is a win. We’re getting closer to moving on from the morning. I guess I don’t mind having coffee in bed. This is kind of sweet. He’s updating me on scores from the games that I was too drunk to remember existed. I can’t believe that Kentucky beat Louisville. They were so dangerously close to being the SEC East Champs, and that is just amazing. Ok, why is he reaching inside my bath robe? We are officially done with the sexy part of our weekend. I’m seriously still not sure that I’m not going to throw up. Please just stop touching me.
“Well, I have brunch plans so I really need to start getting ready.” (Read: Please leave.)
“I’m glad you came over last night.” (Read: Not really, but if I’m nice, maybe you’ll leave.)
He just asked if I want to hang out again this afternoon. I definitely appreciate the offer, but I would like to slowly pick up the pieces of my broken life and maybe forget that we rounded second base in the Uber.
“Yeah, just text me.” (Read: Thanks for the sex but maybe I can figure out a way to never see you again.)
I’m so fucking late for brunch. Katie is going to flat out tell me that if I wasn’t a slut, I could make it to brunch on time like everyone else.
“Hey girls, sorry I’m late!”
Damn it, Emily. Did you really have to start the conversation with ‘soooo how did your night end last night?’ We couldn’t fucking ease into this? Carrie is the one that abandoned me in the bar with him. Can she not take any responsibility for not making my drunk ass leave when she did? She’s so good at cutting herself off. I mean, this is why she’s always alone, but at least she doesn’t regret it.
Oh yeah, Sara, let’s please talk about how Chris posted that Insta with the new girl he’s seeing. Like that isn’t what drove me into a tailspin to begin with. That’s the only part of the night that I don’t need help remembering, thanks. I’m glad you and your boyfriend just want us ‘both to be happy.’
I can’t wait to get home and take a nap. I’m just going to lie on the couch and watch one episode of House Hunters International. Then I’ll go to the grocery store and get some laundry done.
I wonder what he’s doing today. He said he wanted to hang out, but I haven’t heard from him since he left the house. I’ll see if he posted anything on Facebook. Or Twitter. Or Instagram. Or his Snap story.
Who the fuck is that girl?
Ok, so I’ve been scrolling through this girl’s Instagram for an hour. She’s like really pretty, even if she regularly dresses like Kylie Jenner at Kendall’s 21st. Do real people actually go out like that? I will never be that girl. I mean, more power to you, skank, but if my boss even saw a picture of me dressed that way, I would literally fucking die. But I don’t really care. It’s not like I wanted to date him anyway. I seriously only went home with him because Chris posted that picture and Evan didn’t text me back.
I definitely can’t be pregnant, right? I’m pretty sure I haven’t missed my birth control in at least a week. And I think we used a condom. I remember asking him if he had one, but I guess I don’t really remember seeing it. Legitimately the only thing I know about him is that he steals Internet from his neighbor, and I can’t have a kid with someone who does that.
Ugh, why did I go home with him? He’s never going to date me now.
Oh, he just sent me a text! He wants to know how my day is going. He’s totally in love with me. I think I’m going to ask him if he wants to go to trivia at Ed’s on Tuesday. I mean, it’s definitely too early for him to be meeting my friends, but that’s a really casual setting and a total “I’m a cool girl” move. If we start dating now, I’m not going to have to get him a Christmas present, but we could still spend New Year’s together because it’ll be enough time into our relationship that that won’t be awkward. And he can totally come with me to Emily’s wedding in March. I was worried I wouldn’t have a date, but this will work out really well. Let me text him back.
“Good! Finally starting to feel like a real person again, lol. You?”.