Saturday at J. Paul's... and Sunday

I spent today with a bit of a hangover. Yeah... I had a good time last night. Not a unique Sunday by any means, but unfortunately I got up this morning and headed back to my company's distribution center where I worked from 10:30 to 3:30. The first few hours were uncomfortable - my head hurt, and I felt that "ugh" feeling so common with hangovers. But once that passed, maybe by 1 PM, I was just HUNGRY.

I didn't plan on staying until 3:30, but there was a big order that a group of coworkers wanted to finish before they left, so I decided to help them out so that they could leave as soon as possible. I was actually quite proud of myself because I did a 300 piece order all alone. That's not a large order in the grand scheme of things, but I did it on my own with no errors, so I felt pretty good.

When I finally left, I went to Ann Taylor Loft to shop and hit up Wegman's looking for Cathy's African tea. (It wasn't there - so if anyone can find Rooibus Tea, I'll PayPal you for it if you send it.) My mom is going to check the Mustard Seed grocery in Montrose (Ohio). I came home with green tea, nighttime chamomile tea (Wegman's brand of sleepytime, I think), molassas (another Cathy recommendation), and Italian Wedding Soup. When I ate that soup at 5:30, it was my first meal of the day.

I'm going to blog my sleeping aid trials starting tonight, so stay tuned for nightly updates...

Here are some photos from J. Paul's last night. Wes and Drew got quite a bit of attention from families, especially families with kids. I'm not exactly sure why I think that is rather funny.
I call this photo "Family Enter- tainment."
This is Wes' youngest droolie.

She got her picture taken with him, then came back later and asked him for his phone number. I believe he said to her, "You don't have a phone!" She was not the least bit happy about leaving him... although none of them are, are they?
Angie is an angel - she's so kind. I, on the other hand, am going to hell.








We ended the evening at Brewer's Hill Pub. I fell in love with Beyonce at Brewer's Hill Pub. Her songs were the only ones I knew. Well, hers and the guy that sings like Michael Jackson. What's his name again?
Jess, Angie and I with a mystery middle finger (sorry, Mom).




Update: Mystery finger revealed. Wes, put it away, dude.