The first words out of my mouth this morning were into the hotel phone asking the front desk for a late checkout and for housekeeping to bring up some toothpaste.

There’s a mysterious can of Four Loko nestled next to liquor bottles by the mini bar. It’s unopened, which means that someone brought it with them last night and then changed their minds at the last minute. Probably for the better.

We are in the midst of ordering a hangover pizza to the room, and The Real Housewives of New York are cunting it up in the background. Pretty inexcusable, I know, but fuck it. My first meeting of the day isn’t until after lunch, so the weekend doesn’t end for a couple more hours.