I should be in bed; 11:17pm is usually decent for me to be going to bed, but not when I have to get up at 5:40am to catch a shuttle to the evil city. Tomorrow and Friday I will be in San Francisco for the sales conference. My past forays to the sales conference have resulted in some mildly debaucherous activities, but I'm feeling too damn old for such nonsense--I'm tired, I was at work until 10:30pm tonight (albeit with a break for a Taco Bell run and a chat with my dad), I missed this week's episode of 'Lost', and while I'm feeling much better than I was yesterday, my cough has moved to my lungs, which means I will feel like I'm drowning/choking for the next month or so. All of this combines to make me feel rather apathetic about the prospect of drinking like a college freshman with a fake ID at an open bar. Then again, I succumb to peer pressure easily, and so tomorrow night could turn epic--but if I sneak away in time, it will likely result in me sleeping for ten hours while trying to block the sound of Terry watching the opening night of the NCAA tournament (yes, I'm sharing a room w/Terry--there are advantages to working at the same company as your former roommate, one of them being that you can room with someone you know rather than a psychotic stranger).
It doesn't help that I'm a manager now--yes, I've gone corporate. But, people just pay more attention to the people who are managers, and have longer memories with them. For instance, I can't even remember the name of the guy who was found passed out, pantsless, in the hallway outside of his room a few years ago, but I definitely remember getting wasted with my first manager after he won an award and got far too drunk for his own good. So, for my own good, I will probably tone it down a notch this year.
Managing people, refraining from passing out, potentially buying a new car--I'm become an adult before your eyes. I'm becoming an adult before my own eyes as well--I've discovered that if I crinkle my eyes like I'm scowling at someone, there are definite wrinkles forming in the inside corners of my eyes. That's what I get for scowling at people so much, but I was seriously depressed the first time I noticed them. It sucks enough that I'm getting wrinkles, but to be getting wrinkles that result from scowling rather than laughing? Sad!
Okay, this pity party is going to be cut short abruptly, since I need to sleep more than I need to whine. Goodnight!
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