Mourning After Christmas

'Twas the morn after Christmas and half of the world
Felt VERY hung over as from bed they uncurled.
Others do feel an incredible bloat
As if they'd just eaten the entire contents of a boat.

From the lights of the office these unfortunate cringe
As their bodies remind them of last evening's binge.
'I might call in sick,' both unmerry groups think
'But I did that last year, boss called me a fink.'

So shucking of yesterday's revelry clothes
Into the shower each one of them goes.
Now dressed and groomed, they still feel a mess
How they'll get through the day is anyone's guess.

One man drives in at his usual pace
To find a strange car parked in his space.
His mind rises up from its mucky mire.
'How'd I forget? Last week I retired!'