Don't They Know I Need at LEAST Eight Hours of Beauty Sleep?

I am not learning my lesson. Probably because I am drunk every time a new learning opportunity presents itself. Sunday night I was told I didn’t need to be working until noon the next day. So I stayed out late, and ordered an extra cocktail. (and by “an” I mean “four… ish.”) At 7:59 AM on Monday I got a call, “Can you come down a little early and help?”

Glarg.

“Uh, sure. When?”

“NOW!”

I checked people in all day with my hair in a greasy ponytail and wearing the same clothes as I had been the day before. Hooray for first impressions!

That night I was told things didn’t begin until 9:00 AM the next day, so I again stayed out and only kept my alcohol consumption to a few glasses of wine…. And of course the orange liquor aperitif-thing the bartender bought us. At 7:00 AM on Tuesday I got a call. “Cat, can you just come down a little early since it’s the first day?”

I did manage to shower before scurrying downstairs.

Last night we were dining in South Beach. I sat next to a friendly guy on the bus and proceeded to share with him how I had scored a single room and had spent the weekend goofing off instead of working. Turns out he had scored a single, too. I guess he usually gets a single, too, being the president of the company and all.

.

Happily, our entire dinner proceeded to be an exercise in every HR violation imaginable, led by none other than my bus seatmate, so hopefully if I get fired there will be plenty of lawsuits to choose from to secure my future.

And then I went to bed after midnight. Again. I didn't need to be downstairs until 9:00 AM. Naturally, this morning I got a call at 7:00, the woman who normally covers the desk first thing in the morning was sick, could I come down and cover for her?

Maybe if I go to bed early tonight, I’ll finally get to sleep in tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll just order another Irish coffee. That tactic's been working well so far, minus the bloating and vague hallucinations that started this morning.