It’s 5:34 am on this Thursday morning, and I’ve got one burning question that has plagued me for the past three hours:
“Does Bailey’s Irish Cream have caffeine in it?”
You’d think that I would know, having insanely dropped $600 for a two week bartending class in San Francisco way back in ‘03, but I honestly didn’t know, and am beginning to believe that it’s true now that I’ve finally given up getting any sleep since hitting the bed at 2 am. As I get ready for work, I’m recounting the whole evening (steak and brownie dinner with Meg and Chace and Luce at Backyard, Peter and the flight attendants at Zapata’s, and then an empty DKD with same crowd and lots of Bailey’s) and wondering: why am I so stupid? Now I have a zombie-like morning full of meetings and presentations to look forward to, and to top it all off Coco got totally wasted and came over half an hour ago and is snoring comfortably away next to my stuffed panda bears. Looking at her restful face and knowing that she’s got hours and hours of heated comfort ahead of her in my bed, I can only smile lovingly down upon her and say out loud: “you lucky bitch.”
