Day off. Party Dad.
In a turn of events, I bring you a "Day off" free of the black clouds and general bad moodiness that has been following me around lately. It was so good that I may even change the name. "Pretty good day off". Or not.
Oddly enough, the reason I am in such a good mood is that I acquired a second job today. Which will most definitely cut back on the amount of times I can actually use "Day off" as subject matter for a post. However, for L and I, it means that we are moving closer towards those far off things. Plans for days. We've got em!
The best thing about good news is celebrating.
But what the hell is one supposed to do when you get good news at 9:00 a.m?
See, I am total instant gratification. Always have been. So when I am faced with things like, I finally got the awesome job at the brand new restaurant I've been waiting to get for months. I am ready to party. Like now. Unfortunately for me, the rest of the folks (yes, they were folks) in the service waiting area at the Toyota dealership seemed less than ready to hoot, holler or even give a celebratory "Fuckin' aye right!" in my honor. Mind you, this is pure speculation. These people may have mislead me into believing that the info-mercial for the insanity workout (which is hilarious, by the way) they were all fully immersed in was a much better way to spend your morning than excessive high-fiveing and rabble rousing with yours truly. What do they know. I can party without them. So I paid my $300 (without complaint, mind you) and went on my way.
Second problem: My "Partner in Party" is now at work.
Scratch mid-day party. Day drinking daddy isn't really a moniker I am too keen on acquiring.
Now what? Heaps of clothes to fold, maybe some dishes, mow the lawn in the rain = No party.
Lindsay suggested Mexican food and a pitcher of margaritas to celebrate. I wish she would have said party, but I will take it. She also mentioned a trip to Target. To get wild, of course. Definitely not for socks.