How Was Your Day, Honey?

The morning began with a respectable hangover from yesterday's Pride Parade and assorted beverages and the realization that I'd drunk-facebooked a cute guy who works on the same floor with me at the courthouse. By noon, I'd discovered both that cute guy is gay and that he's moving out of state at the end of the month. I then ran into cute guy in the hallway. He politely chit-chatted with me for a few moments. After we finished talking, I went into the restroom where I discovered a clump of rice hanging from the ruffles on my shirt. Thankfully, the shirt was white and the rice seemed to blend in. I hadn't eaten lunch yet--the rice was from at least two weeks ago. You see people, during the colder months, I do what I can to save on dry cleaning. I'm not too proud to admit it. I'll wear a shirt twice if it doesn't smell. Now I know though to check for smells AND leftovers.

So, after removing last month's rice from my cleavage and double-checking my shirt in the mirror for sriracha and soy, I actually went to lunch. When I returned to the courthouse and passed through the metal detectors, I found the security guards busily whispering to each other. I was hoping that a d-lister had faceplanted in a courtroom. But no. Not even close. What happened was that someone decided to shit in one of the public elevators. A judge had stepped on the elevator and quickly stepped out--reports on whether he stepped in the pile of feces are still conflicting. TMZ has been contacted and has been asked to provide surveillance footage.

When I got home from work, my mother called. Her first question was, "How hungover are you?" Apparently, I drunk-dialed her as well yesterday.

I'm now waiting for the rest of the collateral damage to trickle in. Let's hope I did something constructive while wasted, like prank-calling Oprah or writing love letters to Anthony Weiner.