That Drunk Girl At The Office Function

I'm a little behind in all of the things I would like to write about. I have a list going and will have to catch up quickly when I get my computer back. Knowing me however, I'm bound to get off topic within the first two sentences, so the list just gets longer and longer. Most of my life feels like a spinning wheel I can never seem to step off of. Work's been busy and so it's been difficult to update while I'm here, but I'm staying late today specifically to do so. Here it goes.

Saturday. I woke up the day after our amazing concert feeling absolutely fantastic. I love those mornings where it just feels good to be alive. After a quick session at the gym, I came home, got changed and headed off to a company picnic I'd been dreading for weeks. It's not that I in any way dislike the people I work with. It's just that I'm the only one under the age of thirty (McFarlane was down the shore), and also the only one without a seriously significant other (all are married except one who's in an extremely serious relationship and one who swore off marriage long ago). The age gap isn't so weird. I'm fairly mature for my age and don't mind mingling with adults. I just didn't want to be the only one who felt out of place. The trouble is that there isn't generally anyone for me to depend on to feel awkward with, and I hate that. I could have used some awkward company.

After a cosmo that I probably shouldn't have had, somehow champagne seemed like it couldn't particularly make things worse, so I had a little. I never drink and drive. Let me just say that now. If I've been out with you, you know that I won't even have one drink and get behind the wheel, but somehow I just didn't care that day. The truth is, I used alcohol for the very thing I hate alcohol being used for. I drank to feel less awkward. I didn't want to be the only one without an "other" and the only one not drinking. A glass of champagne with my 60-some-year-old boss (the one who swore of marriage) somehow ended up with the two of us finishing off two and a half bottles by ourselves. I think he's a pro at being in that alone and drinking situation. We drank and laughed and ate and had an amazing time. I may have been THAT girl who gets too drunk at an office function, but I never get to be that girl, and for the time being it was fun. Stupid, knowing I had to drive later, yes, but fun. Right now, fun seems more important than responsible.

The highlights of the day seemed to include when the host's husband (a 40-something year old man with a rat tail) asked me if I was sobering up because I was pretty bombed earlier, and when I dropped the head of the company's blackberry on the table and momentarily broke, what seemed to be, the most important thing in his life. I must say, it was pretty impressive, even for me.

I drove home, not necessarily drunk, but with the essence of being drunk still on me. The worst part is, I don't even really regret it now. That picnic wouldn't have been nearly as fun had I not been loaded, and I somehow feel more comfortable with everyone in the office now that they've seen me like that. I even told the woman who sits next to me to call me and we'll hang out. She told me she and her husband had wanted to hang out with me after the picnic, but she didn't have my number. She does now, and I hope we do. Somehow, it seems strange to drink and smoke up with a married couple, but in reality, I know it wouldn't be. They're just friends like anyone else. Why does marriage seem so alienating to me?

ANYWAY, after a quick nap, I got up again in the same clothes and wandered over to Sam's house for his 21st birthday celebration. Needless to say, I had about two drinks and was loaded again, but didn't feel at all strange about it there. I love those six boys, Meghan, and the etc. kids that make guest appearances. I just feel so completely comfortable around them, and that's a truly priceless quality to have in a friend. Let alone seven friends. They truly are amazing.

Between the liquor, the beer, the pot, the cigars and the cigarettes, we all managed to get very fucked up out on Sam's deck. It was a wonderful night. The weather was perfect and we were all perfectly happy to be there, to be alive. It was one of the best Saturday's I've had in a long time.

I'm not generally in the habit or relaying details of specific events as much as my usual spout of feelings and theories about life, but I needed to write a little something about that day before I began to forget. Everything in life can become a blur so quickly if we neglect to mark them down, to separate them, to make them their own unique moments. Trying to organize pictures today, I struggled again and again trying to identify what time period each one fit into, where each one took place. I always assume my memories will be with me forever. I'm always telling myself that I could never forget this or that, but I generally do. Time moves so rapidly, it's a wonder I can keep anything in my head at all.

Of course, the drugs and alcohol probably aren't helping much.