Christmas Parties

My work Christmas party last week sucked. Working for the government meant no spending tax payers' money frivolously (errr, I know there are SO many things wrong with that sentance) that we had to pay for our own Christmas party. We got one drink included in the ticket price. One drink.

Last night's party didn't suck. A house full of nice Canadians. One had inherited $200,000 and wore a Hugh Hefner robe. Another when asked what he did he said "Gambling. Online Poker." I said "So you're up?" He said "Yeah." I laughed with a girl about the gourmet pretzels that were out on the table. It was a Seinfeld episode. Then a guy pointed out we were standing under a mistletoe. Someone turned to me and said "I didn't mean to molest that dog." I looked and it was an actual dog he was referring to and it scampered under a chair.

I drank way too much last night.

I was still drunk when I walked to work this morning. I know this because the ground kept changing its mind about its position relative to me. I am still drunk now and I know this because I am trying to picture its movement using X, Y and Z axis.

It's 11.53am and the hangover and I are having a conflict of interest. I wish it was a death ray and that it wins. And why did I have that egg sandwich for breakfast? Oh that's right, poor judgements presides when you are not sober. That's why you don't drink and drive. Shoot.

One drink doesn't sound too bad an idea after all.