Trish

The alarm going off jars Trish out of sleep. While reaching for her cell phone, the blanket falls from its blindfold position and releases the full sun of midday into her bedroom. "Crap!" Before another thought enters her head it begins to pound as she lets her heavy noggin hit the pillow again, the sunlight slowly making its way through the fog of her memory of what happened the previous evening.
After what seems a lifetime (in reality is five minutes) she slowly regains an upright position and surveys the damage from last nights escapades. Mental checklist begins - 1. phone (alarm still beeping) 2. wallet (peeking out of purse) 3. purse (covered with the finding of item 2) 4. keys (can be seem by squinting towards side table by front door of studio)...well, the evening could not have been a total disaster then. Looking down she realizes that she may have taken off her shoes but managed to sleep in her bra and jeans, again yet miraculously must have taken out her contacts. It never ceases to amaze Trish no matter how the room is spinning she still realizes it is doing so in focus before passing out.
She grabs her phone and silences it, taking note of the time. Alright, you can do this. Just one foot in front of the other. Upon standing she knocks over a glass of what must have been water by the side of the bed. Huh, well that must be why I am just bad and not worse. Rounding the "wall" ( i use that term loosely) that divides her bedroom from her living space she notices a pair of feet hanging off her love seat, then the water glass makes sense...Julie.
Cloudy images begin a slideshow in my memory. Closing the bar, serenading each down the street (subsequently getting yelled at), was there food?, then a cab? or the subway? Coffee will help to sort this out, and a nice hot shower.