This past week has been mentally challenging, to say the least. Warning: CHILDLIKE RANTING WILL ENSUE! So, as I briefly mentioned before, luckily my heart looks like a normal, healthy 22-year old heart. Nevermind the fact that at 9 am, an hour and a half before I was due at work I had an existential crisis while watching my own heart beat in real-time and thinking the whole time, HOLY BALLS ALL THAT STANDS BETWEEN ME AND MY UNTIMELY DEMISE IS THIS LOUD, MESSY-LOOKING ORGAN! THIS IS IT! I’VE PROBABLY JUST WITNESSED ITS LAST GASP AND NOW I’M DONE FOR! But I didn’t die, and am, in fact, by all accords so far, looking quite well. On Thursday I checked into the laboratory and had six (SIX! EW!) vials of blood taken as well as a foul little Tuberculosis test performed. It is now 72 hours later so I can safely say that based on the normalcy of the test area on my left arm I don’t have TB. Oh, good! Now I just have to wait for my blood test results.
Hopefully by Tuesday they’ll call me and be all, HEY GUESS WHAT! YOU’RE TOTALLY FINE! PLEASE CONTINUE YOUR REGULAR LIFE NOW, K THNX BYYYYYYE! Or at the very least, WE FIGURED YOUR SHIT OUR AND ALLS YOU HAVE TO IS TAKE THIS LITTLE PILL AND EVERYTHING WILL BE OK! OKAY THNX BYYYYE! Obviously the proper farewell is imperative to my body’s wellbeing.
So in addition to my body craptacular, I’ve been learning espresso (fun!) and counter responsibilities at work which translates to having to deal with the general public and their predictable disregard for my efforts at being friendly and well-mannered. After all that, I desperately needed a release by the end of this week… in this case it translated to nachos. Nachos and Manhattans. What a terrible combination, right? But in my defense, I didn’t plan in that way, I was just having people over for nachos who happened to bring Manhattan fixings, and what am I going to do, say no, that doesn’t mesh with the nachos!? Hell no! Bring it on!
P.S. This is my favorite pot holder, for obvious reasons.
It was a simple night of good snacks, fancy drinks, and quality people. And in my book, no matter how the whiskey is mixed, you can be sure that whiskey goes with pretty much everything… any and all snack foods, desserts, fish, meat, other liquor, and especially, bad company. Nothing else seems to make bad company more tolerable, so there you go. Alls I need now is a convincing argument for my bosses that we should keep some whiskey on hand for those particularly foul days where all the people in the world seem to believe they are entitled to be treated like royalty in exchange for a slave-like verbal whipping. Wish me luck on that endeavor. Sigh.