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Feb. 7th, 2009 05:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolThis morning, I stumbled downstairs at about eleven with my pajama top on backwards, something I noticed just as I saw Katie, who was possibly somewhat alarmed by the mascara smeared apparation wearing a man's dressing gown (it used to be Dad's, I basically stole it) and mumbling about 'fucking bastarding wine'.
... yeah. Staff night outs are bad for me and my self-respect. I actually had a great night, but I'm puzzled as to how I found myself in my manager's living room, taking sneaky drags on her fag*, a glass of wine in hand, trying to use a hula-hoop. I will clarify there were several of us there. I have no idea why my manager has a hula-hoop. I have no idea why we danced around to Thriller in her living room, either, although I have a sneaking suspicion the answer is 'wine'.
Oh, god, I have to work with these people next week. Help.
On the bright side, I'm not as hungover as I should be. Bit of a headache and the usual hangover feeling, but drinking sweet drinks for Britain seems to have done the trick. As such, I deem the night out a success as at no point have I thrown up bouncing purple lentils in a paper bag on my bedroom floor. I appreciate this is a somewhat strange and extreme yardstick, but we've all got to have our limits.
(Besides, I wil hopefully be a grown-up civil service type this time next year and I won't be able to get away with this shit.)
*I know that Smoking Is Bad And Will Kill Me, I also spent eighteen years living with prolific smokers and any damage has already been done, and I don't smoke unless someone around me is smoking and I'm absolutely wasted already. I have had the lecture already and I am highly aware I'm going to get another one tonight so please save your typing fingers.
... yeah. Staff night outs are bad for me and my self-respect. I actually had a great night, but I'm puzzled as to how I found myself in my manager's living room, taking sneaky drags on her fag*, a glass of wine in hand, trying to use a hula-hoop. I will clarify there were several of us there. I have no idea why my manager has a hula-hoop. I have no idea why we danced around to Thriller in her living room, either, although I have a sneaking suspicion the answer is 'wine'.
Oh, god, I have to work with these people next week. Help.
On the bright side, I'm not as hungover as I should be. Bit of a headache and the usual hangover feeling, but drinking sweet drinks for Britain seems to have done the trick. As such, I deem the night out a success as at no point have I thrown up bouncing purple lentils in a paper bag on my bedroom floor. I appreciate this is a somewhat strange and extreme yardstick, but we've all got to have our limits.
(Besides, I wil hopefully be a grown-up civil service type this time next year and I won't be able to get away with this shit.)
*I know that Smoking Is Bad And Will Kill Me, I also spent eighteen years living with prolific smokers and any damage has already been done, and I don't smoke unless someone around me is smoking and I'm absolutely wasted already. I have had the lecture already and I am highly aware I'm going to get another one tonight so please save your typing fingers.
