I thrive on chaos

It’s been a hectic week. We launched new products on Wednesday, and I had to work my bearded ass off to fix all the minor (and some not so minor) glitches that always appear before, during and after such a launch. Monday through Thursday, as well as a few days in the week before, were intense.

On Wednesday I met two friends, who’ve never met before, for dinner and a beer or two. A fine time was had. Meat was eaten, though not by all. TV shows and politics and work were discussed. It was a very unpretentious get-together. I need to meet more of my friends outside of the usual circumstances in which we meet.

On Thursday I had my creative writing group (“crony huddle” being the term our teacher uses). Another fine time was had. Stories were read. Stories were discussed. I always come away from those meetings with a mixed feeling of inspiration and terror. There are such good writers in the class and in my huddle that I sometimes feel like I should format my hard drive and stop playing at being a writer, but at the same time the energy that I bring with me from the huddles is so powerful that I couldn’t live with myself unless I channeled it into words on a page.

And last night was the annual party at our company. Over 1000 people, a Russian mafia theme and plenty o’ drinks.

Yes. It's a boa.
The hat is several sizes too small. 99.99 percent of all hats are.

A very good time was had. Perhaps too good, judging by the size of the scrap metal salvage yard that decided to open shop inside my head today. I blame the co-worker who managed to score I don’t know how many bottles of wine. I never drink. Wine.

And not really never, but rarely. I’m more of a beer person. But the wine was there, it was free and it fit the hat and the boa and the whole theme of the evening. Though the champagne and caviar we had during intermission between the information part and the party part was even more fitting.