Friday mornings, then and now
I totally forget that most people stagger in to work on Fridays somewhat (or completely) hungover (or still drunk), especially when you work on a team of fun and urban 20- or 30-something ladies. I used to be one of those.
Well technically I still am “fun”, “urban”, and “20-something”, but let us first define FUN. A fun night for me is no longer happy hour turning into karaoke, turning into late night dinner at a new restaurant. “Fun” now is finding a red Netflix envelope in the mailbox so I can watch a whole DVD of Dexter episodes with a full mug of ice cream and waist-less pants.
The difference is alcohol.
Now, I come into work at 8:30 a.m. on a Friday all like HI TEAM!!!!! and they look at me all like FUCK YOU FAT LADY. And on top of it, I show up today wearing neon purple tye-dye, which means that every other minute when I get up to pee, a psychadelic billboard walks by sending everyone into the spins. A HANGOVER'S WORST NIGHTMARE, I AM.
Well technically I still am “fun”, “urban”, and “20-something”, but let us first define FUN. A fun night for me is no longer happy hour turning into karaoke, turning into late night dinner at a new restaurant. “Fun” now is finding a red Netflix envelope in the mailbox so I can watch a whole DVD of Dexter episodes with a full mug of ice cream and waist-less pants.
The difference is alcohol.
Now, I come into work at 8:30 a.m. on a Friday all like HI TEAM!!!!! and they look at me all like FUCK YOU FAT LADY. And on top of it, I show up today wearing neon purple tye-dye, which means that every other minute when I get up to pee, a psychadelic billboard walks by sending everyone into the spins. A HANGOVER'S WORST NIGHTMARE, I AM.
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