POST-GB:NY STRESS SYNDROME
So Friday night was a lot of fun, even though I faded far too early. A week of not sleeping and five hours of white wine will do that to a guy. Plus, it's very hard pretending to be Choire Sicha. Trust me on that. (Manhattan Dan has the photographic evidence... by the way, I'm the one in pink. I told you about my pastel fetish, right?)
Too bad I got so
Oh yeah -- and we drunk-dialed Hot Toddy. Which was what I'm sure he thinks the evening was all about.
Anyway, while the rest of the kids continued to frolic around Manhattan for the remainder of the weekend, I was doing grown-up things, like getting
And now it's Monday morning, and I'm back to the same old, same old. An overflowing e-mail in-box, a desk piled with work, a thousand tiny headaches... whine, whine, whine.
On a more positive, upbeat, happy note, the Publishers Weekly review of Trust Fund Boys is supposed to be out today. I'll post it as soon as I receive it.
Unless it sucks, of course, in which case you're on your own.