Forced.

It all started when I was so rudely “forced” to go out on a Sunday night. I mean who does that anyway? But then again…. we are in college. Alright, so I justified it. A casual drink on a Sunday is one thing, but downtown??? Really???
            As soon as you know it I’m a few drinks deep, dancing the evening away downtown on a Sunday night. Table service??? Free drinks???  Dancing all night long? This must be too good to be true.  I was right, too god to be true. Next thing I know my alarm goes off at 7:30 for work… oh, shoot. So I stumble out of my bed and start to put on my clothes, whether I was still drunk or hung-over is beyond me. What happened last night? How did I get home? These are all questions I had to ask myself.
            Next thing I know I’m struggling around my office, from 9-5. I tried to call in sick, but nobody in the office go there until 9, and I take far too much pride in my work to call at 9:05 to tell my advisor I can’t come in. So the 9-5 workday began.
            I look at the clock after what seemed to be 2 hours, yet it had only been 30 minutes. Then as soon as you know I found myself projectile vomiting in the bathroom, don’t judge me, I’m sure we have all been there. This continued for the rest of the day. Needless to say this workday lasted eternity and I will never again be going out on a Sunday.

-Tipsy Tilly