It’s 5.30am and I’m just getting home – a feat I haven’t accomplished in quite a while. Although I’m sure I’ll regret it tomorrow when I wake up at 2pm feeling like the victim of a savage beating with a burlap sack of potatoes, it’ll be the perfect ending to a great week.
All the Halloween parties I was lucky enough to attend initiated this movement in a fun direction, Dave’s annual bash being the first, biggest and best of them. My costume was a huge hit – note to self: future getups should continue to employ flashing disco lights and homemade clothing; the chicks really dig it – both after hours and at work, where it snagged a 3rd place and a gift cert during the company’s costumed brewfest. I don’t begrudge the 1st and 2nd place winners at all, especially Andy, who’d been growing his hair for months in preparation for shaving it into the Mr T mohawk that completed his Halloween look. I’m definitely not going to be topping that any time soon.
All week there have been happy hours, dinner-and-drinks, costume parties, birthday parties, even going-away parties, and while we’ll all be sad to see BrianO not at work monday, I can happily report that all those events were a great time, and I feel socially recharged after it all (despite being physically drained, I’m sure). I spent quality time with at least a representative from nearly every branch in my web of friends, and I feel like a better person tonight because of it.
Several times this week – as I was running through the pouring rain downtown tonight, bolting between doorways and awnings, jacket held over my head; as I was driving friends (new and old) around city streets that I’m starting to know like the back of my hand; as I was waiting for Charla in Occidental Plaza friday night, the orange streetlights illuminating the fallen leaves in the temporary silence during a break in the downpour – I felt at peace with my life and this place. I feel like this is my city, that it’s home, and that I’m not alone here, and not alone in life.