E=MC Hungover

As I peeled my eyelids open at 6am and sat up, I was immediately reminded why I very rarely drink anymore. I'm pretty sure that it was because I didn't like the feeling of my brain trying to squeeze it's way out through my eardrums.

So, a half-hour later, I've had two cups of coffee, two Excedrin Migraines, and a bowl of Fiber One with Blueberries. Although, my lame attempts at eating healthy this morning are less about curing my hangover and more about making a sacrifice to the back fat Gods for all the french friends drench in Ranch dressing that I consumed while listening to my NASCAR loving brother talk about protein shakes.

I wonder if I should call him and ask if they cure a hangover.

How did I get in this condition, you might ask? The kid had a sleepover last night, which was supposed to be at our house. But first we needed to pick-up both the friend and her bags. When her mum asked if I wanted a glass of wine, I ponied my fat-ass up to the table and figured why not? It's not often I get social hour with adults anymore and the girls were keeping themselves entertained, so it seemed like a good idea.

Well, 3 glasses + a few splashes of wine later, and I think I managed to make quite an endearing impression; I'm sure that after last night, they'll likely never let their kid come over again. How bad could it be? Well......

• It's possible that I was mildly offensive (I know, completely shocking, right?) regarding both minivans and black leather couches; both of which they own.


• I divulged that one of my someday-sister-in-laws lives in a single-wide across from a state prison with her ex-convict husband and that together they run a concession stand at a rodeo.


• I spoke of my brother and his pimped out minivan with the NASCAR license plates.


• I spoke of my brother who named his kid after a WWF wrestler.


• We chatted about my mother, who has the drunk husband that passes out in the driveway and thinks he's fluent in Chinese.

It really makes you want to invite me over, right now, doesn't it?

Now, today, in my fragile condition, I get to go volunteer at the Spring Fair for the kids' elementary school. The bake table, the checkerboard game, and one other awesomely fun thing. Three whole hours of screaming children all vying for trinkety prizes. I can hardly wait.

Why do I do such a thing? Because I'm the PTO's bitch, that's why.