O what a place

A wise person once told me that drinking is a two day activity at least, sometimes a three day activity depending on the person. Day one is the drinking and day two is the hang over. Now when some people wake up partially drunk/partially hungover they prefer to just ride that drunk wave in all the way through day two, thus enters the day three hang over. But those people are either college students or Kim. Us working folk don't get that novelty anymore. The novelty of waking up with the bitter scent of alcohol on your breath and rather than brushing your teeth you decide to open a beer and carry on the binge for a little while longer. Yea, those were the days. A time when I led a more simple life, when I wasn't so career focused like I am now. Because as far as I can tell, going to work hungover isn't fun. This morning has been the worst morning ever. I think it might be one of the only times I've been this hungover and have been forced to function. Back in the days of my old job, which seems like years ago, I just wouldn't go to work if I drank the night before. I can't do that anymore, my boss sits right next to me, he'd probably notice if I didn't show up.

See, in all of my dreams of being able to experience the fun happy hour environment I never thought to think about the awful post-happy hour morning. Last night was a blast, everything I hoped for and more. A group of us gathered at Theory after work for $3 pints and half priced wings in honor of the birthday boy. I have a "group" now. Well, Chris has a group, but they're starting to be my friends too. I'm almost up to seven. We took shots, drank cool Chicago beers, ate wings, and talked about how much we all hated our jobs. It was a cliche beyond my wildest dreams. Around 10:00 we moved the party to Andy's roof top for more drinks and more fun. Although Kate, Katy and I actually hung out more in the living room anxiously awaiting the large pizza we ordered. My call log shows that I dialed the pizza place at least six times calling to ask how much longer it would be. We eventually moved out to the patio to ensure we would see the pizza delivery man pull up. When he finally arrived I ran down the three flights of stairs so fast I nearly tripped and rolled all the way down them. The pizza didn't so much as hit the counter top before the three of us devoured every last piece. It was gross, but really good.

And now today I suffer. I suffer from being hungover, and I suffer from being miserable in this new job of mine. I can literally feel my spirit dying a little with every moment I stare at the computer screen. I can only play on Linkedin for so long, thanks by the way for all of you who have accepted my invites to join my network, feel free to add me if you haven't. I will admit, I find it pretty entertaining how much people our age like to fancy up their work titles. I am a senior advanced professional recruiting specialist CIA director consultant entrepenour. I know, right? Linkedin is cool, but it's no Facebook. I don't really understand it to be quite honest, what's the point? And does anyone else always think of Lincoln when they type Linkedin into their screen? Because I do, so then naturally I think of college, so then I get even more depressed than I already am. It's getting close to that time by the way, you know when college resumes. First week of college... what can be said about such a glorious time that came around every year just at the perfect time? I can literally sit here and reflect on that week and just smile. I just did in fact. Hot sweaty nights at the Rail. Cutting lines at the Bar. Accusing the hot dog man of giving me the "smallest dog of the bunch." That dirty little strip called "O" is one of a kind I don't care what anybody says. Where else can you enjoy a delicious Gyro and listen to some sweet washboard while a man walks by you carrying a huge cross on his back all within a few feet? O. Oh what a place.

But anywho, no time for memory lane now. I've only got five more minutes of this "break" before it's back into the trenches. These will be the fastest five minutes of my day. Friday, stop being such a little tramp and get your ass here.