How to Make Monday Seem Like it Never Happened

• Stay up really late on Sunday, into the morning hours, playing video games and messing around with the internet. Waste as much time as possible. Go to sleep around seven or eight in the morning.


• Since you have the day off, you don't have to wake up at any specified time. That being the case, let your body get itself out of bed around four-thirty in the afternoon. Rest is essential for a productive day, whether it actually happened or not.


• Take a leisurely shower. Wash your too-long hair, shave around your beard, even try to tidy up in there. Take as much time as you need. Time spent in the bathroom doesn't count, as can be evidenced by the time you spend there while at work. Once you come out, time has magically advanced (usually by an hour or two if you play it right) and you haven't had to do any work at all.


• Get offered some spaghetti by your housemate, who is preparing a pot to boil in the kitchen, just within shouting distance. Explain that you were thinking about going to this steakhouse/blues bar for dinner. Listen to the sounds of your housemate pouring out the unboiled water from the pot and getting ready to go with you.


• Offer to drive.


• Meet up with some other friends you were going to go out with later at the bar. They have already been there a few hours and have already drunk quite a bit, as they had stuff to "talk about." Realize that, as the night progresses, they are going to be no help at all to your inhibitions. Realize it is all on you.


• Order a filet mignon, black and blue. Get the soup, not the salad. Get the au gratin potatoes, not mashed. Get a pint of Blue Moon with an orange garnish to drink.


• Within two hours of waking, begin the steady crawl to inebriation.


• Have an Irish root beer, since everyone else is having one. Ask if they have any Sam Adams Octoberfest left and, when they do, get a pint. Finish your meal. Have another Irish root beer, since everyone else is having one. Have a Booker's on the rocks.


• Step outside to have a cigar. Sit down on a bench. Let the alcohol take hold.


• Reel. Sway. Assure people your are fine. When the street clears out a bit, stand up and vomit into a planter. Slam yourself back down on the bench, noisily banging into the bar's front window. Tell your friend you're still fine when comes out to check on you and asks, jokingly, "How's the steak?" Don't give him the satisfaction.


• Finish your cigar. Throw the butt into the planter.


• Walk back inside and head to the bathroom. Use the stall. After a while, try to vomit again, but don't. Realize how clean the floor looks. Realize how comfortable the floor looks.


• Lie down for about twenty minutes.


• Get woken up by the same friend calling your name from the other side of the door. Assure him everything is fine. Walk with him outside to get some air.


• Allow him to walk you to your car. Allow him to take your keys. Allow him to walk away. When you open up the door to vomit again and the alarm goes off, call him with your cell phone and allow him to come back to turn it off.


• Recline the seat. At some point, vomit successfully but not much from the open driver's side door.


• Fall asleep.


• Wake up a few hours later, fine. Call your housemate who is still in the bar and says he will be done in five or ten minutes. Freezing, wrap yourself backwards in your jacket. Go back to sleep.


• Get woken up by housemate rapping at the window with keys. Be thankful he got into the passenger side so he wouldn't see the vomit. Drive home, conversing amiably.


• Arrive home. Get inside. Get into your room. Get into bed. Mess around with the internet. Go to sleep.


• Wake up at around three o'clock Tuesday morning.


• Wonder what the hell happened to yesterday.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a day.