The Spanish Fly

Cut to me today: adorned in a black mesh thong, green-faced, horrified and staring off into space for most of the afternoon. That's right, my Friday night caught up with me. FRIDAY NIGHT?!?!

Friday, March 3rd, I was at the office like any other afternoon- plans were made with the office mates to go out after work and unwind with some drinks. We decided on La Tasca and headed over there at half past 7 for some leisurely libations. The sangria flowed free (both white and RED ... ohhhh), the Grand Marnier shots were delivered (noooo), and the beer cups floweth over (ughhhhh).

We ate tapas 'til 10 (blehhhh) and then headed over to Fado's.

Okay, I have to stop the story here. I'm gagging just thinking about it. Long story short, I woke up Saturday morning with what I thought was a hangover. Here it is TUESDAY and I'm still hurting. Beware, residents of DC, the pre-spring stomach bug has reared its ugly head.

And P.S. I will NEVER go to La Tasca AGAIN ... EVER! (For no other reason than that it's the start of bad things for me this week)