For some reason, I feel like doing one of my time line rundowns of my weekend. Keeps things short and punchy, and it's also a lot easier than trying to write full paragraphs.
4.37pm - Begin drinking in the work weekly meeting.
5.29pm - Leave the meeting a bit tipsy, as usual, and head to the pub with a few coworkers.
8.04pm - The only one left at the pub with the big boss. Get boss drunk and interrogate her about the details of her dating life. Swear not to tell anyone else in the office about it all.
10.12pm - Realize I've been drinking for almost 6 hours on an empty stomach, which is a bit much for a quiet night. Head home, but not before reminding the boss that I now know all sorts of details about her personal life, and it might be in her best interests to ensure I get a good performance rating in the upcoming reviews. Throw in a totally not genuine "Just kidding!" at the end of my warning.
4.11am - Wake up at this ungodly hour yet again due to my awful insomnia.
6.03am - Decide to go for a swim.
6.48am - Blog about awful experience at the pool.
8.58am - Finish cleaning every inch of my apartment (probably some manifestation of my psychological need to cleanse myself after previously blogged traumatic experience) and decide that it is the last productive and responsible thing I am doing all weekend. Begin plotting ways to balance out all this responsibility with some sort of shenanigans.
10.40am - Make plans to meet Muthy for lunch at the Grand National.
1.07pm - Arrive late for lunch, make up for it by buying the first round of drinks. Briefly envision the downward spiral that surely lies ahead, but get distracted talking about myself.
4.17pm - Inform Muthy that in return for the last round of drinks I bought, I expect her to accompany me to a sex shop to buy something a little more interesting than a regular wig to wear to Brownie's farewell/birthday party that evening.
4.32pm -Agree that as drunk as we are, we could definitely use just one more round of drinks at the next bar we come across before we're ready for sex shopping.
5:02pm - After stumbling around a sex shop named "The Tool Shed" for far too long, and asking the cashiers "DO YOU HAVE ANY FAKE VAGINAS?!" and then after perusing their selection tell them "These are actually rather functional. I was thinking something more decorative." Happen to find the last strap-on latex vagina in the store, and happily pay $27.95 for it. (Bargain!)
5:43pm - Arrive home much later than intended, and rush through showering, eating, and getting dressed, only to inexplicably sit down and have a completely unnecessary beer on the couch before heading out.
6:28pm - Finally get to Brownie's place for the champagne toast and some cake. Everything tastes so much better when you're wasted.
7.30pm - Head down to The Golden Sheaf for the party with my rock mullet wig on, and as each guest arrives, reveal the fact that I have a latex vagina underneath.
9.02pm - Do a shot apparently known as a "Wet Pussy". How disturbingly appropriate.
10.46pm - Tequila shot.
1.42am - After dancing for hours and finally getting kicked out of the top floor, tell the bouncer to "hold on a second" and insist that the whole 2nd floor sings Happy Birthday to Brownie. Bouncer not amused.
Not really sure what time I got home or woke up, but the odd part is that I felt 100% fine. I even went to a Swans game (some kind of rugby football thing) and totally enjoyed myself. Which means that Sunday was basically some oddity that will never happen again, where I am immune to hangovers and enjoy sports.
So yeah. Great weekend. And I'm not sure I can ever really top going to a bar with a vagina on my head, so I may actually just kill myself any day now since there's nothing more to live for. Just a quick warning.