You know those mornings when you roll over onto your crisp, cold pillow with a slight smile on your face, ready to face the day and then you recall the terror from the night before like a bad dream? Your blood runs cold and you recall the chaos you may have caused after two too many martinis. Suddenly, you’re cursing that pleasant morning light pouring in through your window and wishing you could crawl back under the covers. That is how I greeted this morning.
It all started innocently enough. Meeting some friends downtown at Spotted Pig for some post work let loose, which turned into at conglomeration of crews at Employees Only, and then somehow, as it always does, ended up a twenty dollar cab ride home from Mr. Purple at 2am.
I feel a brief moment of relief and then the next wave of panic sets in. Where is my phone? This is two fold: do I even have my phone? When I find it, what type of tomfoolery will I find? I swing my legs out from under my duvet and onto the floor. Crap! My feet land directly on the platform heel of my RAYE Lois Heel that I wore the night before on my tour de dirty martini.
After recovering from the shoe related pang of pain, I spot my phone teetering precariously from my lucite coffee table. I throw myself towards it like a quarterback attempting to save a rogue pass. I type in my password and am pleased to find no new messages from anyone but my best friend, Phan. Phew. No harm, no foul. Just when I begin to release a sigh of relief, I receive an email alert. It’s my boss. A glance at the email chain and I see that I had some interesting ideas about our latest project last night around midnight.
No time for crafting up my detoxifying green juice, let alone my normal morning meditation. A quick scrub of my face, slicked back ponytail, standard black shift dress, and slipping into my Kat Maconie Anna Heels, that have always brought me good luck. I grab my KREWE du optic St. Louis sunglasses as armor and march out onto the street ready to clean up my mess.