Swaggering around the edges of the end
This past week...hell, the past day or two...have been extremely hectic. It's insane to think that I've just about redeemed two months of hard work for one night of hard play. And every day blended into one due to my zombie work status. Thursday, though. Thursday was a night that was pure bananas.
I didn't get any sleep Wednesday night, because I slept all day after work, and barely woke up in time to hang out with some of the usuals at the Monkeyhouse. I got home around 3am, having felt nice and toasty with a couple of beers and a session with the Scag Baron himself. I tried to sleep, but couldn't force myself to add another 3 hours to the grand total of 14 or so hours of sleep. 6am finally rolled by, and it was high time for me to roll out for the first half of my day of rockin out.
I picked up Leo and Brian, and drove the three of us to Boreal for an afternoon's ride. The snow was hard packed, but the day was great all around. It hurt, but the pain I inflicted on myself kept the adrenaline flowing and the recklessness in gear. We capped the trip with In n Out in Auburn and three times the rush hour traffic.
When I got home from kicking it at Leo's house, I barely got the chance to take a shower before the calls started coming in about tonight's bar plans. I first heard Pinecove, then Streets of London, and mixed opinions of when and where. Eventually, we rolled out to Streets early so we could sneak Nick into the bar. Needless to say, the plan worked and he got to side-step the rules. Stouts upon stouts were consumed by me and my friends, and by 11pm, the whole lot of us had a group-wide beer buzz. After my first guinness, I walked with Diana, Jaime, and Van to Mikuni's for a quick shot (since Streets of London didn't have a full bar). Being the generously rich sap that I am (or was), I fronted the bill for just about any drink my homeskizzles wanted. Four shots of Johnnie Walker Black Label cost me 30. I probably picked up the tab for half of the pints ordered. The eventual late night meal at Shari's cost me about 10 for Diana's quesadillas. The rum, gin, tequila, and triple sec at the Monkeyhouse set me back around $50. A night of instant-classic moments eventually ended at 5am for me, and it was great.
Friday would become my first day of Christmas shopping, with my first purchase going to my little sister (who wanted some $40 pea coat), and Orlando and Jaime's gifts. Being Saturday now, I fucked up once more and forgot to shop for the other people on my list, like my own mom. Oh well, shopping continues tomorrow. As well as the slow descent into brokedness.