*office phone rings*
That's what happened when my "Create Post" page popped up on the screen. I was all ready to type some amazingly witty or highly lamentable title for today, but the phone rang.
I woke up this morning...no, I'll start with last night.
Got home from work, chatted with one of the roomies for a while, and finally got to work on getting my room cleaned once and for all. Everything needs to be ready for RutgersChristmas on Saturday. So I'm cleaning and making a shopping list and doing my thing. Then 4 o'clock rolls around: time to call in to the mall and see if I have to go in. I hate call-in shifts. If I had known that they would have been a possibility, I wouldn't have accepted the job there. Call-in shifts don't allow you to make any plans.
But then again, every time I had called in, they didn't need me. Last night proved to be the exception, of course, because I had 80 bajillion way-more-important things to do! But I trudged in anyway, sold giftsets for four hours, and bounced at 9 o'clock. They probably needed me to stay, but I was in no mood for it - I keep aggravating my old back injury from my car accident and it causes my butt to go numb sometimes. If it gets really bad, my arm starts feeling the same way.
And there was a bar stool in Perth Amboy with my name on it.
Back to the bayshore bungalow (aka my apartment) with lasagna pans in tow for Andre. Andre finished the lasagnas and then we were off to the bar. At 10:30. On a Thursday. This does not bode well...
Since I wasn't driving (for once), I decided to indulge in amaretto sours. 3 of them. And they were actually the good kind of amaretto sours; more DiSaronno than sour mix. I distinctly remember telling myself, "Oh, I am so going to regret this tomorrow."
In the car on the way home, I decided to justify my stupidity by reminding everyone that we're still young, dammit. "We're 23 years old, for crying out loud! We have to do stupid crap like this now because we totally can't get away with it 10 years from now. Dude, we'll be 33. I'll probably have kids by then."
Which then led me to this whole dissertation on how I probably will not have kids by the time I'm 30 simply due to the fact that I'm practically 23 now and have yet to be in a relationship serious enough where I could even think about getting married. Then I talked about the backlash against the feminist movement and how 30 is the magic age that everything has to be done by if you don't want to fail at life and this interesting article I read in Cosmo and how I'm going to be one of those weirdo hippie moms and...
I babble incessantly when I'm drunk.
We wanted to stop at McDonald's for food, but I had to pee. The ultimatum handed down was either we go to McDonald's first and then pee at home or we go straight home with no McDonalds. I really really had to pee. Damn my bladder. So I settled for tortilla chips while reading in bed.
This morning (as I finally get to the point), I woke up to my alarm and thought that today was Saturday. Not only did I think it was Saturday, but I thought that I didn't have to be anywhere anytime soon. Sadly, reality kicked in as I dragged myself out of bed, showered, and trudged off to work, where I am now. With three hours to go. And a slight hangover...I just want to go to bed.
There are so many other things that I want to talk about, but the keyboard is getting a bit loud and I can't concentrate. I think my condition is declining. Must stop typing...
I woke up this morning...no, I'll start with last night.
Got home from work, chatted with one of the roomies for a while, and finally got to work on getting my room cleaned once and for all. Everything needs to be ready for RutgersChristmas on Saturday. So I'm cleaning and making a shopping list and doing my thing. Then 4 o'clock rolls around: time to call in to the mall and see if I have to go in. I hate call-in shifts. If I had known that they would have been a possibility, I wouldn't have accepted the job there. Call-in shifts don't allow you to make any plans.
But then again, every time I had called in, they didn't need me. Last night proved to be the exception, of course, because I had 80 bajillion way-more-important things to do! But I trudged in anyway, sold giftsets for four hours, and bounced at 9 o'clock. They probably needed me to stay, but I was in no mood for it - I keep aggravating my old back injury from my car accident and it causes my butt to go numb sometimes. If it gets really bad, my arm starts feeling the same way.
And there was a bar stool in Perth Amboy with my name on it.
Back to the bayshore bungalow (aka my apartment) with lasagna pans in tow for Andre. Andre finished the lasagnas and then we were off to the bar. At 10:30. On a Thursday. This does not bode well...
Since I wasn't driving (for once), I decided to indulge in amaretto sours. 3 of them. And they were actually the good kind of amaretto sours; more DiSaronno than sour mix. I distinctly remember telling myself, "Oh, I am so going to regret this tomorrow."
In the car on the way home, I decided to justify my stupidity by reminding everyone that we're still young, dammit. "We're 23 years old, for crying out loud! We have to do stupid crap like this now because we totally can't get away with it 10 years from now. Dude, we'll be 33. I'll probably have kids by then."
Which then led me to this whole dissertation on how I probably will not have kids by the time I'm 30 simply due to the fact that I'm practically 23 now and have yet to be in a relationship serious enough where I could even think about getting married. Then I talked about the backlash against the feminist movement and how 30 is the magic age that everything has to be done by if you don't want to fail at life and this interesting article I read in Cosmo and how I'm going to be one of those weirdo hippie moms and...
I babble incessantly when I'm drunk.
We wanted to stop at McDonald's for food, but I had to pee. The ultimatum handed down was either we go to McDonald's first and then pee at home or we go straight home with no McDonalds. I really really had to pee. Damn my bladder. So I settled for tortilla chips while reading in bed.
This morning (as I finally get to the point), I woke up to my alarm and thought that today was Saturday. Not only did I think it was Saturday, but I thought that I didn't have to be anywhere anytime soon. Sadly, reality kicked in as I dragged myself out of bed, showered, and trudged off to work, where I am now. With three hours to go. And a slight hangover...I just want to go to bed.
There are so many other things that I want to talk about, but the keyboard is getting a bit loud and I can't concentrate. I think my condition is declining. Must stop typing...
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