I came in to work on Monday with a hickey and a sprained ankle.

This is why I am not allowed to start drinking during the daytime.

It all started Sunday afternoon at the Pike. I went down to have a beer or two with the ladies, catch some of the D-Strutters set, and then return home for an early night in. Leaving friends, a good show, and beer to head home and do homework? Yeah, it totally didn't happen.

Two beers turned into three, tequila shots were ordered (by me, of course), and before I knew it I was at a bar down the street at midnight. Lately I've been pretty good about cutting myself off at a reasonable hour, but not this time. I'm going to go ahead and blame my current lack of self control on the fact that I am dating a bartender. He can keep up with me and then some. Pretty much the best decision I've ever made, no?

Somehow along the way I acquired the hickey. It is approximately the size of Texas and totally screams I AM DEALING WITH THINGS IN A MATURE AND RESPONSIBLE MANNER. I know it's gross, but it really couldn't be helped. I'm pale to the point of being transparent so the slightest nick leaves me looking like a victim of domestic violence. Factor in that I'm a whiskey drinker and I think it goes without saying that biting? Totally ok. I just need to get him to work on his aim. (I'm running out of collared shirts to wear.)

And I need to work on my footing. I have reached that age (or more likely, I had reached that level of drunkenness) where I get hurt doing normal, everyday things. I sprained my ankle while walking. In flats, even. (Only slightly less embarrassing than the last time I sprained my ankle.)

It hurt so much that I thought I was going to pass out in the road, just across the street from the bar (the torture!). With some help I made it inside, had a beer, and felt good enough to not only walk to another bar but to then walk the 5 or so blocks to my car. This turned out to have not been a good decision. Upon waking yesterday my ankle was throbbing, making walking near impossible. Last night I had to give in and buy a cane.

This is what happens when I only have one day off on the weekend, people. I feel like I have to make up for lost time, WATCH OUT.

I'm hoping that this weekend doesn't involve any injuries, but I'm not holding my breath. I bought myself an early birthday present that I will be wearing out this weekend, sprained ankle or no.

Cause you know, priorities.