Don closes his eyes in enjoyment, or possibly sleep, because before we know it, night has faded into day, and the phone inconsiderately wakes Don. He picks up the receiver and mumbles into it, and it's Betty, full of righteous rage about the fact that she and Henry have an important brunch and it's noon and he was supposed to be there two hours earlier. Don sits up and says he's coming on Sunday, to which Betty replies -- say it with me -- "It IS Sunday!" Don takes a moment for the shock of that to sink in, and apologizes, saying he's under the weather, but as true as that is, Betty doesn't want to hear it and hangs up on him.
As if that weren't bad enough, Don sees that the woman in his bed is not the Clio woman but some, apparently from the telltale uniform on his bureau, diner waitress, who tells Don he promised to take her picture, "somewhere around your third order of French fries, after your sister left." Well, I guess it's good he ate something this weekend. Also, she calls him "Dick," and it seems extreme for Don to slip up on the lie he holds on to more closely than anything, but I could live with it if it didn't make the lie Roger perpetuated to Joan under the influence seem even more difficult to buy.
Don tells "Doris," who Joan Of Arcadia fans like me might recognize as Becky Wahlstrom, who played Grace, that he has some things to do he forgot about, and heads off to take a shower, but, probably feeling especially chastened by how royally he's embarrassed himself, tells her he had a good time and apologizes for forgetting he had plans. He then locks himself in the bathroom, turns on the water, and leans back in some despair, although I have to say it's hard to see an image of Jon Hamm in nothing but his boxers as particularly bleak. From offscreen, Doris calls that she guesses she'll see him around, and I normally hate it when TV characters talk to themselves but I would have forgiven Don mumbling, "Not if I see you first."
Sometime later, Don pours himself a shot of rye, which seriously makes me shiver, but we don't see him drink any as he instead flops back on the couch in just his open robe and boxers. This time, day gives way to night, and once it's dark, there's an urgent knock on the door that wakes Don up. He answers the door, and it's Peggy, who asks if he's okay, as she tried to call him several times over the weekend. He claims his phone isn't working, and despite his haggard appearance and the fact that he probably smells like Canadian Club's bottling plant, she asks to come in, and he obliges.