Both of the last two days have meant I’ve had to leave office parties to do work and then been cut off from socializing from my coworkers. I actually got to utter the following phrase to a field office person: “I’m sorry, this will have to wait until tomorrow when I’m sober.” That was a good feeling. I also got to yell at people, with the appropriate caveats that I was not sober and this was not personal, even if it was. I should be able to drink at the office more often.
A week until I head to north-of-Pittsburgh to meet Mike’s family. I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, but I am. I’m sure it’ll go fine, but I’ve been through the whole first meeting of the family before, and while I know I’m charming and all that, it’s still nerve-wracking. I haven’t procured the necessary bits of liquor yet to grease the wheels, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to before Friday next week. This does not bode well.
So I went out after work to a tri club event (where they told me I need to teach a class on cooking veggies), and then off to see the homos, where they flirted mercilessly and I resisted because I’m thoroughly in love and where we all frustrated each other. And then I left to come home and resist going to work in the morning because I suspect I’m going to hurt tomorrow. Oh well. The world will have to get over it.