Ravished on St. Patrick’s Day

I slide into bed, totally exhausted from the strenuous workday. I'm not sure I like the young woman I'm becoming, this little brat who asks too much of her staff. But everyone is always just so rude to me. It isn't fair! How the heck else am I supposed to earn any respect?Today would be so much fun if I hadn't agreed to start working for this new company a few months ago. Or maybe it wouldn't either way.
I used to love St. Patrick's Day. However, all St. Patrick's Day means to me now is that it's an excellent excuse to get hammered alone in my bedroom. The clock on my computer screen lets me know that it's time to call it a day and start sipping whiskey. My cell phone rings again just as I'm about to bring the bottle to my lips. This time, I ignore the call. Suddenly, my bedroom door slams open. Frightened, I slide back against the headboard and literally start cowering for my life.