I'm very tired. I went to a Festivus Party last night with my great good friend Andrea and today I am paying the price.
It's not that I'm hungover, because I'm not. I did have one drink - a lovely champagne with pomegranate juice punch - but it was just enough to make me hot and sweaty rather than tipsy. The food was amazing, so I ate rather a lot. I didn't know anyone except my friend and the hosts, so I had to exercise my conversational and mingling skills. I also participated in the Airing of Grievances, but we left before the Feats of Strength.
What were my grievances, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.
- The Schuylkill Expressway, aka the Surekill Distressway, a highway that goes from the Valley Forge exit of the Pennsylvania Turnpike to Philadelphia's Walt Whitman Bridge into New Jersey. It should be a quick and easy way to get into and out of the city. It is not. Not ever. Never.
- The Bros. There is a group of men in my apartment complex who are loud and drunk most of the time, especially late at night. They have a uniform: flip flops, long gym shorts, a hoodie, and a baseball cap worn backwards, regardless of the weather. The call of the Bro is "Hey bro! Hah hah hah hah beer? Shit yeah!"
- My boss, who is a year older than SonnyeBoy, and who likes to make old jokes. Watch it, honey!
- The people who walk their dogs, scoop their poop, tie the poop bag, and then tie the bag to a tree or toss it to the side of the path. They do this even though there is a waste can along the path specifically for the purpose of dog poop disposal. What are they thinking? That the Poop Fairy will swoop down, pick up the bags, and leave them a dollar?
Anyway, all that mingling and eating and sharing of grievances has left me drooping. I think it's going to be an early night.