First week at the new job was filled with orientation, being mostly ignored by my coworkers and manager, and a whole lot of reading books from cover to cover that were designed explicitly to never be read cover to cover (after getting a bit of a talking to about excessive surfing. Already!). The commute is killer and in the end I'm putting in 14 hour days. It's okay, though, I know these things take time. And I've secured an ice cream vending machine nearby, so... I'll live.
With Saturday (and therefore sleep) on the horizon, I just kept my mantra rolling in my head, "I want a house, I want a house, I want a house". Climbing up the stairs to my apartment at night, beaten and worn, I comfort myself by thinking that my brother probably still has at least 5 more hours at his office.
Saturday was finally here! B snoozed a lot this morning and wound up finally getting us both up around 9. Which was both over 3 hours later than I've been sleeping all week and at least 3 hours earlier than I was planning on getting up. I had a slew of errands to run, so I got an early start. Later, I got an early start on waiting for him to be ready to go to H's party. Even though we hit the road later than planned, I still opted to make a quick detour and hit the outlets in Hagerstown. We were late for the party but, truth be told, the only pants that my fat ass still fits into are being hemmed and held captive by the tailor until Friday, leaving me pantsless for work on Monday and Tuesday. I'm pretty sure my wiley charms are failing to thusfar win over my coworkers so showing up pantsless probably wouldn't fly. Anyway, it was more like a visit to the "outlet" as I basically just ran into Kasper, snatched up a dozen or so suits and tried them on in a whirlwind of blacks and greys. Some brown. One purple. The purple didn't pan out (shocking) but I scored some pants, 2 full suits, and a funky new shirt for thereunder. That's a hellalot of clothes for me. The chick behind the counter gave me credit for a 70% off coupon that I didn't have, plus 10% off for providing my email address so I got a pile of quality stuff (unfortunately, all requiring hems) for $200.77! For those of you keeping score, that's the equivalent of 4 weeks of parking downtown and one leg of my sister-in-law's jeans.
In 40 minutes flat, we were back on the road to H's. I was looking forward to seeing them and "old work" folks. B pretty much sat in a room other than where the party was going on, making the occasional belabored conversation, as he seems to do lately at social gatherings (perhaps in preparation for Thanksgiving?) and I kinda laid low too, but only because I had nothing to contribute that could possibly compete with the incredible show I was watching; nudity, tramp stamps, home made booze, mega mullets, Dead Ed Europe '06 t-shirts, and rock hard strap-ons. Trust me, you just really had to be there. No further explanation would do it justice. It's definitely an experience that requires being read cover to cover.
We left kinda early, I suspect because B's darvocet wore off and he could no longer mask his ever deepening state of Grump. He slept on the ride home and I cried. Three shots of backyard Bailey's in me and no one to talk to. I can't remember the last time I felt so alone. It's hard to believe that I already miss those people as much as I do. I had no idea how far under my skin they'd really gotten.
These things take time.