21 Comments   

A morning in the llife of: Julieanne

Vital stats: 26, single, childless, boyfriendless, non-jogger, functional boozer, Lemondrop editor.

Location: Brooklyn, N.Y.

6:15 a.m. Wake up from red-wine-induced nightmare. Realize am not in own bed. Regret visiting last bar and, more specifically, drinking last drink.

6:20 Locate water glass. Exit not-own-bed. Fill glass. Chug water. Refill glass. Find purse. Locate Advil Liquigels. Take three Advil Liquigels. Halfheartedly attempt to locate pants. Return to not-own-bed. Go back to sleep.

6:21–7:58 Snore heavily.

7:59 Have one more night terror for good measure. Somehow incorporate grandmother into night terror. Regret not calling grandmother.

8:00 Blackberry alarm (calypso-themed ringtone "Cool Runnings"). Regret ringtone! Apologize to grumbling dude. Hit snooze.

8:00–8:59 Enjoy beginnings of a hangover, feelings of sundry regret. Burp bourbon occasionally, subsequently remember having drank bourbon. On Blackberry, check Gmail, work email, Twitter, Facebook, AllWeather.com and horoscope. Sweat a little.

9:00 Dude's alarm clock. Apologize again! Get up. Politely refuse shower. Congratulate self for keeping deodorant in purse. Brush teeth. Successfully locate pants. Successfully locate bra. Successfully locate yesterday's blouse and cardigan. Take mental inventory of clothing stashed in ho-stroll kit at work.

9:05 Oh hey, Pat Kiernan.

9:06 Leave dude's. Head for subway. Run into friend on subway!

9:06–9:20 Endure unforgiving laser beam of friend's quiet judgment.

9:21 Hit coffee shop just off of subway exit. Buy obscenely large coffee. Take three more Advil Liquigels. Contemplate buying overpriced bottle of water. Check into coffee shop on Foursquare only to lament -- still not Mayor of coffee shop. Feel deep shame, keen sense of own fruitiness for checking into Foursquare, caring about mayorship of coffee shop. Walk to work.

9:25 Retrieve clean shirt, underwear, face wash, dry shampoo, mascara, tweezers, powder and Visa card from desk. Hit the locking unisex bathroom. Wash, spray, change. Ball up yesterday's clothes and feelings of shame into small ball of shame and clothes. En route back to desk, buy two Diet Lemon Snapple Iced Teas from the vending machine using credit card, despite deep, abiding hatred for Diet Lemon Snapple Iced Tea. Briefly become unreasonably upset by lack of diet-beverage choices. Consider writing strongly worded note. Consider buying Pop Tarts. Enjoy moment of amusement over NASCAR Pop Tarts in vending machine before hangover intervenes, making enjoyment and amusement impossible.

9:30 At desk, have brief moment of concern for liver, then wash down two more Advil with both Diet Lemon Snapple F**king Iced Teas. Gargle with Listerine.

9:33 Start work! Good morning, Internet!

2 a.m.-ish? Bedtime.


Next: A Morning in the Life of ... a Teacher