The morning in which Kevin finds religion

Yesterday afternoon I was told that I'll be meeting a new client this morning.

Being the professional that I am, I wasn't about to let this career-moment stop me from going to celebrate BJ's birthday last night. It was going to be a quick drink. One round and I was going to leave.

Yeah, right.

The rounds flowed. We did shots (because that's always a great idea on a Wednesday). Some of the drinks were on fire. I was sexually-harassed by my friend's Fiancée’s Aunt Didi. Repeatedly. At some point the waiter started bringing me more Stella without even asking. We sang into people's voice mail. Aunt Didi stole our mobiles to let everyone know that she was going to have both Jim and I naked at the wedding. I got home late, mildly trashed and/or retarded.

My belief in a kind and benevolent God kicked in around 7:00 am this morning when my alarm went off. I opened my eyes and realized -- somehow I'm not hung over.

I know what you are thinking, and no, I'm not still drunk. It's divine intervention -- somehow God turned my beer into Pepto and my cheese fries into Advil. That's a miracle in my book.