What’s Your Sunday Morning?

Oh, Sunday mornings. You wake up on the opposite side of your bed, make
up caked on, and the straight hair you had worked so hard on the night before is
now a big, sticky mess. You’re not really sure if that cute boy you brought home has
left or not and, in the back of your mind, you are secretly hoping he did. Thankfully,
cute boy is nowhere to be found and your clothes seem to still be on. Not much of
last night’s happenings seem to make sense and you suddenly feel like you are an
extra in “The Hangover.” Racking your brain for details, you immediately text your
three best friends and ask them to divulge every detail about the previous night, yet,
sadly, they don’t know either. Once the coffee and hangover brunch fully settles in,
you uncover a pretty big bruise on your right leg. Weird. Then, that hottie in your
class (who you’ve never had the guts to talk to) is suddenly giving you winks from
the pancake line at Leo’s. Even weirder. All at once, you start to think about all of the
possible, crazy, terrible scenarios that could have happened. Did you fall onto some
pizzas in Tuscany, ruining your outfit and your dignity? Did you even get Tuscany?
(Hopefully not because you are on that pre-Thanksgiving diet) Were you acting like
a (hot) mess in front of floor hottie? Now your stomach is really starting to hurt and
you are pretty sure it’s not from dehydration.