Yesterday I woke up at 8:30am, looked at the clock, and freaked out. I was convinced that Sarah and I were late for work. I even started out to the living room to wake up Sarah. And then I remembered it was Saturday. Ahhh.

When I woke up again many hours later I did my post-drunk routine of checking to make sure I still had everything and viewing the outgoing calls on my phone to make sure I didn't drunk dial. In this case, I struck out on both counts. My credit card was missing, and I'd called Rob.

I *think* the Rob call was because I was in a Michigan bar (Gin Mill). I don't suppose it matters much because Rob is across the country.

The credit card had me worried though. I knew I'd closed out my tab and even had the receipt as proof. I had visions of having to cancel my card and erase fraudulent charges. I believe those damn Citibank identify theft commercials even ran through my head.

But I kept my cool and called the bar. Sure enough, I'd just forgotten the card when I closed out the tab. So all was good. Except that the bartender I spoke to actually remembered me and asked how hungover I was. I think it's a bad sign when the bartender thinks you were too drunk :) And he was right about the hangover. Ouch.

But all better know and ready to tackle the world again. Right after I get off the couch.