Sunday

The Anatomy of a Chicago St. Paddy's Day Hangover:


A coffee run is the obvious first step and you feel like you're making the right choice by getting it iced despite the frigid temperatures. At least the ice cubes are hydrating. A line of college basketball players waiting for steak and cheese bagels makes you wonder if you'll catch the El on time, which you do. You start to wonder if people have noticed your green jeans that were so obviously for last night's festivities, but then realize that Sunday is actual St. Patrick's Day. Score.


Sip carefully on the iced coffee and wait to get home to devour the muffin in your purse that you're saving for when the time is right and your exact specifications have been met. The neighbors pomeranians silently but happily greet you at the front gate  furthering your longing for a dog but your pounding head confirms that it's a responsibility you can't handle. Grateful that the other neighbors are making something with rosemary in it today as opposed to curry as you lug your sad cramped up legs up three flights.


A twenty minute boiling hot shower/teeth brushing combination makes you feel at least half way human but now you can't bring yourself to get out of the shower. The comfiest of sweats are carefully chosen. One minute of getting situated on the couch with Chicago Fire playing on your laptop and a bite of the patiently awaited muffin confirms that you're not going anywhere. A quick facebook scan and a text from a friend confirms that people do still go out drinking on actual St. Patrick's Day but obviously not like Chicagoans do on Saturdays.