Last night was my fifth annual office holiday party.
Let us pause to mourn my youth, as I am having a hard time with the fact that I can possibly have worked anywhere post college for five years.
Okay- over it.
Anyway, the night went from hotel to hotel bar to the Hangge Uppe, which is a place that you would most likely not find me any other day of the year.
But it has oldie beats that are good for dancing.
There is nothing like a dance party while pointing out coworkers who may or may not be making decisions they will regret in the morning.
Luckily, I am too responsible to get myself in much trouble.
That or I caught a cab with LM fairly early, and realized upon arriving at home that lunch and dinner weren’t really a thing for me yesterday.
It was an emergency situation, so I sent JW out for cheese fries.
He also came back with burritos.
I think he realized the severity of the scenario.
Anyway, while most of my coworkers had the good sense to take the day off, I’m heading downtown to hunker down in my cube, drink a lot of coffee (and water), and somehow conduct four meetings.
I think the problem really started with something that looked like this:
Those are serious.
Okay chicks, I’ve got to get to work and somehow get “Signed, Sealed, Delivered” out of my head.
Oldies beats. Beer towers. Happy holidays!