Tired. Groggy. Sleepy. The morning after.
But at least I’m not hungover. At 37 I’m too old for hangovers, especially the debilitating kind that I stupidly wore like a badge of courage in my younger years. These days I appreciate nothing more than clearheadedness 24/7.
Anyway, the party. It was fun, as these things go. I ate, got roped into joining a parlor game, lost, laughed at other people who got roped into joining parlor games. I gave and received gifts, won a minor prize in the raffle (always a minor prize, goddamn it!), ate and laughed some more, and generally had a good time.
And then it was past midnight and I had to go home. It was not an easy commute.
So, yeah. Tired. Groggy. Sleepy. I’m in for a long shift. I wish it’s Friday already.
Playlist: Grandaddy – Just like the Fambly Cat; Suicidal Tendencies – The Art of Rebellion