Sunday Mornings Suck

Ugh. I hate Sunday mornings. Or rather I hate Sunday mornings when I was drinking Saterday night.

I work in two hours and I stopped drinking roughly six hours ago. See the problem? Ugh. I got like three hours of sleep, stupid time change.

It was an interesting night. First, our car wouldn't start and needed a battery charge. So, we were late getting to my cousin's figure sktaing show. Then, the ground was covered in wet snow, so I got soaked. More than once during the course of the night.

So, we get to the party and it was fun. Maybe a little clausterphobic, but that's just cause labels freak me out. But I had a good time. Caught up with some old friends. Had a debate on whether my parents friends should still be allowed to call me 'kiddo'. I lost.

So the party was good, but leaving was an adventure. We gave Jesse adn Jenny a ride home and then got our car stuck in Jesse's drivewya, it would not budge, so we ended up having to take his truck home and go back for our car today. Fun, huh?

I'm sure Jesse especailly loved having to try and push the car in the muck at five in the morning. Which is why he just gave my mother his keys. It was a kind of crazy night.

Anyways, now I have to go get ready for work. Yuck. I hate work.