blogs of shame

i came into work this morning to find Outlook, my email software, to be a bit bonkers. i think i did it yesterday on a mad dash out of the office for a job interview. anyway, it won't "send/receive" and therefore what good am i today?

i opened up google reader and settled in with my Polar seltzer (cranberry-lime, y'all) with the pervasive numbing hum of the air conditioner(s!!!) soothing my hangover (i had just rolled in from about 5 hours of sleep after bar-hopping to burlington's finest collection of jukeboxes, free popcorn and pbrs. the creme de la creme.) Two co-workers began some baseball chatter, which i easily made sound like the adults in Peanuts cartoons. because i don't give a fuck. i don't even know if they were talking about baseball! so i'm sitting there, paranoia of a future of a flat ass somewhere in the back of my mind, wondering if i'll barf today in the very forefront of my mind, trying to recount how many cigarettes i actually smoked last night and reasoning with myself why i didn't spend that money on a savings account instead of that last 4 beers. and i'm feeling anxious for a time when i'll do something meaningful with myself and, when i do, if i'll just want something more meaningful after that and that first meaning will cease to be enough for me as if i'm building up alcohol tolerance. i'm trying to remember a facebook invite i wrote in my head last night for a dance party that should have happened 10 times already this summer (because we're feeling rough we're feeling raw we're in the prime of our lives) but has not and i'm hoping i didn't drink my wit away like i did any hope for a good decision. elissa said "make sure it says _____. don't forget!" "i won't forget," i said. and that's the only part of it i remember.
i was snapped out of this typical wednesday morning (see also: typical thursday, typical tuesday) suddenly not by pangs of responsibility or by the who's who of athletes who have been accused of rape, but by some fuzzy sounding guitar coming from my external harman/kardon speakers, a kind of validation of myself in this place, and HEY LOU REED DID YOU JUST SAY SOMETHING? i can't stand it anymore more either. thanks for always being there for me, though i'm sorry to be listening to your music in such an unsavory environment. (there's white out on my desk.) and i can't stand it anymore.