Big shout out to a certain comic reverend for the advice on Pedialyte, which I’m sipping now. Not ever having had children myself, I’ve always relied on Gatorade or mineral water.

I’m actually not that hungover, it’s just that I really do try to keep on the straight and narrow relatively speaking. One or two light beers and I usually stop these days. Not only does that keep my beer gut down, but I realize that I’m more interesting when I’m coherent. I also get the added bonus of almost always knowing exactly where my underpants are.

I can’t believe I dragged co-workers to the Emerald Isle. Not that there’s anything wrong with a cold and drafty bar on Dot Ave., but I do try to feign a certain something that doesn’t suggest that kind of bar when I’m at work. Of course, anyone who knows me in the real world recognizes “feign” as the key word in that sentence, since in truth I gots very little klass.

So, yesterday morning started at the airport and ended with me alternately crying and singing out loud “Midnight Train to Georgia,” while making my way down Mass Ave.

Today feels so much more sane, even if I did have to run the annual admin staff yankee swap.

Sleeping alone after three months or so of not sleeping alone will seem weird, I’m sure. Funny that both M. and I were pretty confirmedly into our respective bachelor pads initially and then we weren’t without that much discussion. It seems now like it just sort of happened. And, now, it’s just sort of stopped (for awhile).

Since I’m retarded enough to sound so adolescent in public, and in case there is anyone keeping score, here are the current M./Dee-Rob stats.

Anyway, my mood is lighter today, and I have hope of a future reunion. The goal now is to wake up tomorrow clear-headed, clear-eyed, also know as not hungover.