Last week was essentially survival of the fittest–and being that I was solely competing against myself (a meltdown vs. no meltdown battle), it was a tough go. I cried in 2 parks, 1 street corner and during 1 frantic bike ride around my neighborhood out of grief, frustration, sadness, you name it. I had all the feelings running rampant last week.
I was so distracted– first full week in my new position at work, my uncle passing, a fight with K and the other minor things that build up solely to push you over the edge– I actually walked out on my bar tab Friday night. 90% sober after 2 beers and an order of chicken tenders and I walked out because I simply forgot. This may be usual for some but I don’t walk out on bar tabs*. Or forget to pay bills. Or my credit card.** But I walked right out of the pub after saying my goodbyes and didn’t remember until noon the next day.
So, yes, last week was real rough. But I’m trying that whole “keep calm and carry on” thing, because it turns out laying on your boss’ floor and complaining that the world is not fair and everything sucks and nobody-likes-me-everybody-hates -me-I-guess-I’ll-go-eat-worms gets you nowhere.
TO CHEER US ALL UP
2 things– one, I just got this e-mail response to a proposed BBQ on Saturday:
I’m in! My Saturday is as wide open and unstructured as the GOP field!
And that kid is a Republican! And secondly, I forgot to share my ultimate favorite sign from Wisconsin:
Bikini nights! Thursday, Friday, Saturday (and sometimes Wednesday)
That really cracks me up. I don’t know why. What may or may not happen on Wednesdays? But you must keep in mind that during the time I found this to be absolutely the most funniest thing in the history of the world, I had been surviving on nothing but Wisconsin beer and cheese curds and living in a house full of all my co-workers for the better part of a week. We were all very confused.
Confidential to Duluth, MN: Infinite X’s and O’s to you all.
*The only other time I’ve done this I had consumed about 5 too many bloody marys and distinctly remember getting about a half a block away from the bar, remembering I walked out on my tab and promptly disregarding the suggestion to go back. The bartenders tipped themselves real well that night and kudos to them. I deserved it. Bless the drinking establishments that don’t keep your cards– just all your information.
**I may leave my debit card in ATMs in foreign countries once in a while but it is ridiculous that some ATMs keep the card in the machine and others don’t. I am not really a forgetful person.