I splashed cold water on my face. It helped, but not enough. It was all I could do not to put my head down on the cool countertop and stay there. But I actually had to be somewhere. I stood up and blinked blearily into the mirror. My reflection glared back at me.

“I know!” I said to it. It narrowed its eyes even more.

“Look, I know, I should have gone to sleep early, should have skipped the last drink.” At least once a week we went through this. Me apologizing to my increasingly haggard looking reflection. I should feel bad for it, but from what I could tell, it took on all the bad side effects of my late-night habits. Why would I stop when everyone told me they were amazed how fresh I looked? I still felt most of the hangover, which seemed a fair trade