Drunk lady

I’m not that fond of bars anymore. (I prefer coffee shops nowadays.) Because I’m getting older? I would rather prefer peace and solitude over rambunctious merry-making. But I ended up in one somewhere in Capitol Commons late Friday night. It’s for a team office night out cum Christmas get-together. All seven of us in my work group were at the venue around 30 minutes past midnight. Nothing much transpired. Two team members (myself included) assumed a teetotaler persona that night. I wanted to eat, but the place is not conducive to gorging on good food — it’s dark and noisy. Oh yeah, I forgot I was in a bar. Although I have to take note that the menu is teeming with palatable entrĂ©es.

Anyway, enough of that.

My group was sitting across a bigger table with at least a dozen young people (in their early 20s, I assume). A boisterous group, swigging hard liquor from their respective shot glasses. Every once in a while, they’d burst into a song, singing along to the choruses of the piped-in music. It was all fun. Nothing wrong with that. (I went through the same phase.)

Until someone excused herself from their table. We were at the mezzanine along with the fun dudes and dudettes. The young lady that left the long table in a huff ended up slumped on the narrow stairway, barfing all over the steps. The attentive bar staff got wind of her predicament. They jumped to her aid, bringing buckets, mops and what-have-yous. Meanwhile, the friends of the distressed lady appear oblivious to the developments.

I stopped minding the whole scene. Waiting for my ride home a couple of hours later, I chanced upon the same group outside of the pub. Two men were helping the intoxicated lady walk. Her well-heeled feet hardly touching the pavement. I thought to myself, “Come on, girl. That’s no way to have fun.” Know your limits and stick to it. There’s no shame in saying “I’ve had enough”. It’s not cool to pass out in drunkenness all because you want to impress your friends that you can handle more.

But then again, it’s none of my business. Oh, well.

Day of the Dead

It’s one of those sad Friday nights, one where you’re in a place or situation you least expected yourself to be in days or even weeks before: surprisingly off from work, but stuck at home alone with some bodily aches and pains as your only companion. Not fun at all especially if your [spouse|significant other] is out and about town with office friends at the wee hours (such an unfortunate timing) and/or your [best friends|angst buddies] won’t even talk to you or linger for a conversation for reasons unknown. Sometimes I wish I would have just croaked in time for these global Day of the Dead observations and it would have been fitting and no one would have noticed. I’m now thinking of doing some writing to perhaps milk something creative out of my bored-to-death wits but I don’t think that’s going to fly right now. Considered ordering out and just eat myself out of my misery but then I realised I’m not craving for anything. Maybe I’ll take a nice warm bath and plug in some movies or TV series afterwards and see if I can perk myself up. Sometimes, I hate long weekends especially when you haven’t had one in a while and now you’re in the midst of it with nothing to do.

Happy Birthday, Deary!

My birthday week has come and gone and I can only heave a sigh of relief that it is over with. The Wifey made sure that I know she remembers. A few close friends also have the day stuck in their memories somehow they need no social media prompts for them to extend their greetings to me. (And I really love SMS greetings, feels so old-school nowadays.) Now I can concentrate on the main task at hand — devote focus on my new formal job and in the process give myself enough time to pursue endeavours like this one, blogging/writing. I mentioned last time how fast my September mid-week went. Let me add a month to that. Hopefully, my brain starts to perceive that developments are beginning to slow down the moment day-to-day events start to “normalise”.

Happy 1st Monthsary, Dream Team!

Speaking of my new work, the newly assembled team I belong to just crossed our first month together in the organization. And what better way to celebrate than with chocolate cake — a company provided one courtesy of our site Vice President nonetheless! (Doesn’t really matter who baked it, where it came from. What a sweet gesture! Seriously, I’m already old and this is the first time in my formal employment experience that I got a cake from management just for reaching the first month probationary period of my job.) Not that I’m expecting something similar on our team’s second month but this was a such wonderful act. But on the other hand, it’s also a tacit reminder from the bigwigs that whisper “Make sure you deliver very soon, guys” in our ears while we savour that chocolatey goodness in every bite. Of course. We know our collective necks are on the line. (He-he.)

Dua Lipa!

Last night was supposed to be a chance Dua Lipa night for me. Her fans were lucky enough to have her concert push through despite typhoon “Mangkhut” up north. But circumstances have ways of knocking out my semi-planned things in total disarray. The disruptions were welcome though. Last Monday, I latched on to a new job which will substantially pay more than the one I unceremoniously dumped. And I wasn’t going to blow this opportunity away by skipping work just to watch a concert considering it’s no less than the CEO handling the team’s orientation for one full week. Apparently, huge things will ride on the collective shoulders of the group I just joined and I couldn’t be more excited than I am now. Catch you later, Dua.

I think my body gave out by the end of Friday, I’m having a really bad cold (was perhaps lucky enough to have availed of a four-strain — if I heard it correctly — flu vaccine a couple of months ago) and now I’m worried I got hit by a variant outside of that four. I now have fever with coughing. I’m going to use my weekend rest to get back in shape so I can resume work by Monday. I don’t want to be calling in sick on the start of my second week.

Let's see what happens!

That’s life, really. When you want to sleep, you can’t get a good one. And when you lack sleep but have to be busy at the office, it’s so easy to doze off on your desk if you’re not alert enough. I should stop worrying about stuff, especially when I’m about to hit the sack.