Saturday

I was going to go to the bar tonight to be with friends on this festive occasion, but unexpectedly had to go in to work. That was pretty harsh, considering my expectations were far different. Instead of drinking a summit pale ale, I was tubing a stat diltiazem. Instead of drinking a bushmill's on the rocks, I took some ativan to the ER. And instead of a grand marnier to cap it all off, I got lost on the way to the parking ramp because I didn't want to walk outside in the weather, the tunnel system is impossible to navigate when the doors are locked. Then the only place you can go is into some offices where they have all kinds of seventeen inch flat panel displays, stealably mocking me and my dinky old retina-bruising CRT. Not to mention, people are in from out of town that I haven't seen and want to drink with. I'd go right now except I have to work in the morning and the only thing worse than work is work hung over. Not going to do it, period. I'm saying that for the benefit of the devil on my shoulder who doesn't give a rodent's ringpiece if I am miserable for a long time if it'll get me whiskey now. After all the sensible justification in the world, I feel discouragingly old and lame.

Merry christmas all, down in TN and all over the metro, out in CA, and in NY, and Taipei. And anyone whose location I forgot. May the yule tidings bring you bowls of jelly on a one-horse open sleigh all through the year. Is christmas imagery and phraseology interchangeable, or is it just me?

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