12.15.02 - 10:35 a.m.

Best. Sleep. Ever. I don't think I've slept this well since the Carter administration, and I was in the womb then, so there you go. Thank you, Matt, for the use of your floofy bed so I could pass out happily and have strange dreams about fitting rooms.

So the office holiday party. Felt like a high school Christmas dance to me. I don't know, maybe it's because I was tired, and still a little sick, and dead sober, but it was either like that or yet another hideous wedding reception. I saw it in Elizabeth's face, and I felt it in my own too. I am a snob.

But we get bonuses (bonii?) in March. Hooray!

Then there was Friday. Wherein I performed my normal duties of housewifery, rescued my car from the scary auto body shop in Clifton (it looks GOOD, y'all), and prepared for our visit to the political dustbin of DC by burning lots of CDs at 11:30 pm. Of course. How else does one go on a mini-break?

And then we saw many people whose names I either can't remember or I can only remember a nickname and it's something like "Stiffy," Dan learned (much to his shock, I believe) that when we girls say "hooked up with" it can also mean "slept with" in addition to "had a pregnancy scare because of" and "threw his boxers out a fourth floor dorm window." Hee.

And then there were the people whose names I did know, because we used to be friends up until about junior year when I no longer felt them to be trustworthy, and there was the acting like "I miss you, we should definitely keep in touch," when we all know there's no chance in hell of me keeping in touch with people on my third tier of acquaintances when I have so much trouble connecting with those I really care about.

And you know, I have no real desire to talk about my job, or your job, or anything that has been previously discussed in a mass email detailing life change. I know. I got the memo on the TPS reports, ok? Let's just have mindless chatter and not make it a big deal that we haven't seen each other in two years or anything.

But it was still a good night. And I saw Gay Pee. Whom I really do love more than beer, or just as much, I think.

Matt and Dan wanted to go see the Capitol Center implode this morning, but alas, it was scheduled for an 8 am demolition. So sorry, boys. I understand the male need to watch things blow up, but 8 am on a Sunday morning is a bit early even for something as riveting as that.

But life goes on.