ZZZZZZZZZZ

I meant to just have a couple of glasses of bubbly and get the last train home. I ended up crashing on my pal Corrie's carpet at 4am and doing the walk of shame at 10 am the following morning (along with my beau, making it sartorially shameful, but thankfully, less slutty). Praise be for afternoon naps. It's what Sundays are made for.