I hosted a creative team margarita mania happy hour at a bar next to our office yesterday and, because I am the personification of professionalism, got pret-ty hammered. When I finally made it home, I was doing some major Courtney Love-status foot stomping and wailing about how I want to get a best friend and name her Margarita(?). When I woke up this morning with a not-so-awesome hangover, Nate had made me breakfast:
I know, guys. I KNOW. Isn’t he da bestest? Try not to be too jealous.