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Well, I did it. I went to my first happy hour post baby. And usually people don’t brag about surviving happy hour but I’m going to because it was 6 fucking hours, 10 stiff whiskeys and, like, 23 bowls of popcorn worth of happy hour. I thought I’d be home by 7 and I definitely got home somewhere between 11:15 and midnight – or so Seth said. It was glorious and today, though I might still be drunk, I feel refreshed and a little bit closer to the girl I was pre all the babies. Who knew a happy hour on steroids would be just what the doctor prescribed? Does that make sense? Is that how the saying goes? Whatever….

To sum up just how much fun I had I’ll tell you a little story. After a week of running and clean eating, I ordered (okay, you’re right Seth ordered it for me because I had no business trying to communicate with the outside world) a pizza and ate one piece – until I woke up at 4:30 this morning, rolled over and tapped Seth on the shoulder to ask if I ate dinner when I got home.

“You had me order you a pizza and you took, like, one bite.”

“I did?! So there are left overs?”

“In the fridge.”

So at 4:30 this morning I walked into the kitchen to not only find a nearly whole gluten free pizza, I found a nearly whole pepperoni, pineapple and jalepeno (who am I?) gluten free pizza. And I ate half of it. At 4:30 in the GD morning. And that, too, was glorious.

So, here I am, happy it’s Friday and (possibly still drunk) having the best day ever.

Here are my weekend plans:

👶👦🏀👏🏀🍷👶👦🏀🍷👏🏀👶👦🏀🍷👏🏀

HAVE A HAPPY ONE!