It was one hell of a party, y’all. Good lord. Last night (Friday) was chock full of miscalculations. I’m sure I will told more about what happened tomorrow. It was fun, though. It’s not often you have a drunk married friend ask, “Which fireman do you want? How ’bout the one in the skirt?” My response: “There’s more than one in a skirt. In fact, all but two are in kilts.” (Yes, a roving gang of firefighters showed up WITH BAGPIPES to a bar at about 1:30am. Yes, we talked to them. Yes, I looked like an idiot dancing around to said bagpipes.)

Yeah, a lot of crazy stuff went down. And I don’t remember all of it (apparently I wrote an email about tatertots at 3am). And it involved so many ounces of beer and a shot of something–I am so stupid, and I think I recall a rum and Diet Coke as well–that I am actually reluctant to log that onto my WW tracker. I’m afraid that putting that much alcohol on my log will trigger some sort of crazy meltdown at WW headquarters, a hand will extend from my computer screen and slap me across the face.

SOOOOOOOOOOOO. I didn’t weigh in this morning because 1) I didn’t get up until 10:30am (that’s 7 solid hours of sleep, people) and 2) my antibiotics are eating my insides. I WISH I had a hangover compared to this! The pharmacist warned me of possible side effects, but this is just…ugh. I felt so ill and rundown that I went back to bed at 1pm and slept for 2 solid hours, which is something that I NEVER do. Someone told me that eating yogurt can help, so I’ve been downing Yo like a maniac. Hell, I’ve just been eating anything that looks like it could help.

I would make some daily goals for tomorrow, but everything is contingent upon the tummy settling down. So much for working out 6 days this week.