it's pretty rare that i do something so horribly inappropriate that i become embarassed to the point of wanting, nay, NEEDING to bury my head in the proverbial sand. thursday night was one such time.
my pride prevents me from completely divulging all details in this sphere, but here is an abridged version of my occupational humiliation:
got too drunk with my boy boss and told him all my business
may or may not have kissed a tattooed stranger
revealed my semi-secret mini-crush on an important italian fellow in the company ("i want to have hot italian babies with marco!")
barfed in a fancy french restaurant, thus breaking a 16 year streak of non-barfitude
my amazing coworker got me in a cab and made sure that i got home alright, even though she barely knows williamsburg and i wasn't much navigational help. after i got home and slurred the details to my roommate and her fella i managed to talk on the phone with spencer... for 6 hours. that kid is a trooper in helping me talk through my drunkenness.
my boy boss called me at some point in the night and informed me not to worry, "dude, it was awesome! and marco thinks you're hot, too!" ugh.
despite my mere 3 hours of sleep, i felt moderately chipper in the morning and was able to hold my own in the showroom until 4:30 when sleep deprivation began to kick in and i became clumsy. there was minimal teasing and only a few uncomfortable looks from marco. so basically, everything's fine. but i still felt like a major douche.
and now i've learned a valuable lesson; never take aspirin and then drink on an empty stomach with coworkers.
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