The trade show weekend came and went with nary a chance to catch my breath let alone sleep what with the mandatory attendance rules in effect for the party (but I skipped out early – I’m a badass, what can I say?) and the Sunday night wrap up dinner (Indian, very nice) on top of working both Saturday and Sunday and defending my essay on Friday I felt overextended.
I don’t know why, but I just wasn’t in the mood to party come Saturday night. It was one of those nights where I just felt like I was wasting alcohol, and had no intentions to get stupid wasted or anything – and I like to go hard or go home. Strike one.
The bar was pretty dead considering how fashionably late we cruised in. Strike 2.
I was bored. Strike 3.
I excused myself because I didn’t really want to be a Debbie Downer and totally harsh on anyone else’s buzz, so I left, only to have to ride the bus home next to some creepy black dude who kept eye-fucking me and spitting. On the bus! Ew.
We were all so bagged at work on Sunday that it felt like the day would never end. Maybe it was the time change, maybe it was the alcohol, but it was pure hell. The Pansy and I both hoped that dinner plans were cancelled since neither of us had heard any further details about it. Don’t ask, don’t tell works for me. Customers annoyed me more than usual, but I got myself through it knowing that in 9 hours I’d be back at home, lying in bed again, except that not 20 minutes after I dragged my tired ass home, my phone rang: it was The Pansy, informing me that my presence was indeed required at dinner and that it started in half an hour, so could I be ready?
Uh, sure I guess, but what the hell am I going to wear. My first problem being that everything nice that I own (that’s even remotely appropriate for dinner) is dirty from wearing it to the bar/the afterparty leaving me no choice but to wear my Nikita top (aka. I’m getting some tonight) but I paired it with a tank so it wasn’t totally slutty.
The dinner itself was amazing, Indian food as far as the eye could see, and good company, although the three reps who sat at our table were a little on the boring side, but beggars can’t be choosers. Our boss hugged us when we got there and again once we got our drinks from the cash bar and introduced us to some of the arriving guests while we were out having a smoke.
Curiously enough, he felt the need to introduce us to his brother (who has met us on countless occasions) as his partners in crime and to one of the reps as Vanilla and Chocolate – his partners in crime. Then he skipped off, literally, to go meet his lady friend from Ontario (he’s got two, we met the other one the night before).
We ate, socialized a little, but left pretty early, still reeling from a really long weekend.
It was a good ending to one of the longest week’s of my life.
An Unrelated Side Note: I’ve also actually (or finally, depending on your perspective) put an end to things with The Engineer – it sounded like a line but I really do need to just focus on me right now, so I’m back on the singles scene. Because I’m a classy lady party, I waited until after I received my birthday/V-day gift to do this. I simply prefer solitude over the company of others as of late, but not in a sad ‘I’m depressed’ way, I’ve just always been like that.