The rays of sunlight shining through the hotel curtains feel like a flashlight shining directly in my eyeballs. No, not a flashlight. Laser beams. A hundred laser beams, all pointed directly into my corneas.
Hell hath no fury like a hangover when you’re thirty years old.
With an exhausted groan, I roll to the edge of the bed, feeling around the side table for my phone, which kindly informs me that it’s almost eleven in the morning. Jeez. If it were any other Saturday, I’d already be home from yoga and hopping in the shower by now.
JeezBut I’m not at home in Seattle, I’m in Las Vegas, and at the moment, just the thought of yoga makes my stomach turn. The only downward dog I’ll be doing today will be directly over the toilet. That is, if I can force myself out of bed.
Last night, I was t
