married ladies get black out drunk too

last night shitler was like "are you ever going to blog again?"  and i was all "look hus-BITCH (i think that has nice ring to it) - I DO WHAT I WANT."  but really i would like to blog.  i would like to tell everyone my mexican tales but my couch looks so lonely when i get home from work and the last thing i want to do is navigate the monstrosity that is our laptop and honestly eating chips and watching the americans sounds more magical. and i didn't actually call him hus-bitch.
but now that it's out there and i like the sound of it i might just start using it more.
but today i would like to tell you the story of mexican blackout monday.
i need to preface this post by telling you that i am a morning person.  and before you exaggeratedly roll your eyes because who actually enjoys being up at the crack of dawn let me explain that i'm a morning person because it's the one time of the day when shitler isn't awake and i have complete silence and i don't have to actually deal with anyone and can put off the inevitable brain bleed that will be the day.  and being on a mexican vacation was no different. shitler would sleep till 10, 11, or 12 and i had all the time in the world to lay in bed and read my smut/contemplate whether or not i felt like getting handsy, watch some mexican national geographic, or hit the breakfast buffet all by my lonesome.  and it was on that fateful monday that i probably should have stayed far from the breakfast buffet because it was there the shenanigans began.  
that morning i decided to visit the buffet and straight up carb load (which was also no different then every other day after the wedding and i didn't have to fit into that damn white dress) and apparently i felt like celebrating a two-bagel and cream cheese breakfast with mimosas.  and mimosa after mimosa after mimosa tend to go down really, really well when you're just hanging out eating bagels by yourself and reading smut on your kindle.  after i was good and breakfast buzzed i traveled back to the room to bother shitler.  after finally rousing him from his slumber we had to wait till the buffet turned to lunch so he could eat and i could drink my lunch.  which i did.  in the form of white wine.  i'm not sure how other people's other halves are but shitler is the kind of guy that as soon as he's done eating wants to get the fuck out of dodge.  and i'm the kind of person that doesn't mind lingering and having an additional bottle of wine.  and the wait staff at our resort had no problem never letting me see the bottom of my wine glass at that particular lunch.  p.s. it was also super fun to consistently have more wine every time shitler returned to the table.  especially when i could tell that he was getting antsy in his pantsy to leave.  especially when he was done with his dessert and i decided that i needed dessert wine since he got dessert food.  p.p.s. i lost track of how many glasses of wine i ingested at lunch.
but i digress.  because after my liquid lunch i was now lunch drunk and shitler wanted to walk on the beach.  and mainly for me it was stumbling along the beach,taking thirty-seven pictures of rocks, and admiring nice asses.  and then documenting it for all eternity.
I MEAN REALLY ARE YOU KIDDING ME LADY.  #DatAss

eventually i got bored with the physical activity and i was hot and i just wanted to go in the pool.  so i negotiated a return to the resort wherein i could pee in the pool visit the restroom and take a dip in the pool and then continue on a beach walk in the opposite direction of the one we had just taken.  but at the pool we made friends and started talking.  and then i decided having long islands was an appropriate idea.  and then our new found friends were like "WE SHOULD DRINK WHITE RUSSIANS!"  and i was like "OMG THAT IS A GREAT IDEA BUT LET ME FINISH THIS SECOND OR THIRD LONG ISLAND FIRST."  and then we had white russians and it was then that my black out occurred.

because according to shitler i was passed out in the room at 4PM, and much to my chagrin, 100% don't remember what i'm sure was me being one sloppy bitch as shitler attempted to corral me back to the room. what i do remember is waking up around 8PM confused, but wrapped in a bathrobe, and i attempting to eat a french fry and promptly fleeing to the bathroom to expel it from my system.  on account of the same day hangover i was experiencing.

and then the next morning i had to suffer through a massage.  which, if you're wondering, a massage while you're hungover is terrible.  because it literally feels like the puke is being massaged out of your body. #FirstWorldProblems 

photographic evidence of my passedoutedness and also shitler is creepy.