I’m A Super Bowl Sucka…

DCist,

You are, by far, the best blog hailing from my former life in the Nation’s Capital. Therefore, I was not surprised when you read my mind this morning by posting:

“So we’re making this proposal to The Man, right here, right now: make the day after the Super Bowl a holiday. We’ll use it to celebrate sloth, gluttony, and our blessed capitalism. We can observe it by eating microwave burritos in our pajamas and watching our favorite Superbowl commercials on the internet. In return, we’ll give back President’s Day.”

Hallelujuah, DCist. After one too many servings of guacomole and seven-layer dip (oh yeah…and all that damn alcohol I drank last night,) I begrudgingly made my way into work this morning with an irritating hangover and an unsettled belly. Please god, why can’t the day after the Super Bowl just be declared a National Holiday already???

So that others can experience an inkling of the pain I endured this morning, here is a list of all things consumed by yours truly throughout the seven hour, two-party Super Bowl circuit I ate my way through yesterday:

(Listed in order of consumption)

• 1 Sierra Nevada Pale Ale to start the party-hopping off right
• 3 grapes
• 2 mini carrots…yes, I was trying to begin the night off healthy until I had…
• 1.5 brownies
• Another Sierra Nevada
• 2 handfuls of pretzels
• 4 gargantuan helpings of guacomole which obviously requires…
• many handfuls of Tostitos
• 8 olives
• 2 more grapes
• A tad more guacamole

(Interlude: arrive at second Super Bowl party)

• 1 glass of red wine…yup, at this point of the night, I decided to “mature” my drinking
• 5 handfuls of almonds
• More guacomole and then…
• Lots more guacomole
• 1 steak (yes, STEAK)
• 1 baked potato
• Another glass of wine
• And to top off the night…a piece of birthday cake finished with…
• A glass of champagne

SWEET JESUS. Who was tossing and turning last night, waking up in a cold sweat with nightmares of guacomole smothering her in her sleep??? Ummm, THIS GIRL.

Now if the nauseating list above ain’t reason enough to institute a National Holiday after the Super Bowl, then god help us…it’s never going to happen. Stay strong my fellow Super Bowl revelers…tomorrow’s another day.

Comin’ at you live from the girl who wants to give the inventor of drawstring pants a BIG HUG.