Well. The night started out good. Holly, Requiem and I went out for a couple of drinks. Note to self: NEVER go to Beauty Bar on a Friday. This may seem obvious to some, but I have never been there, so I thought we'd give it a shot. After a quickly gulped drink we bailed that baloney scene and headed over to Bender's for a much nicer, mellower vibe. I had one more drink, started on a third, but couldn't really drink it. I was pooped, and knew I needed to get some rest before Saturday 9am work time. Took a cab home, ate half a taco, went to sleep.

Then I woke up at 3am and puked.

This is a huge deal, as I never throw up. We're talking at least 4 years since I've done it. I don't puke when I drink too much, I don't puke when I have the flu, I've never had food poisoning, nothing. So why was my stomach rioting like that?

Now I feel like crap, I can't ditch work 'cause they need me (I'm the only receptionist on Saturdays), I'm exhausted, and shakey as all get out. Boooooooo.