Ugh

I woke up this morning to a very lost man at my door. He was looking for the management office. Or perhaps a dishwasher. I'm really not sure. The combination of hangover, just-woke-up bleariness, and language barrier did not make for a very coherent conversation.

At least Bump didn't make me go to Lumpyhead's gymnastics class. That would have been vindictive. I probably deserve it, though. After all, we did make him listen to Shelly West last night.

(But it's a song about tequila! And we were drinking tequila! We had to listen to it!)

I feel bad, but not nearly as bad as I thought I would. I hope I'm not still drunk.