Seeing as how it's Wednesday, I don't remember much. If you cast your mind back to the beginning of 30 Days of Awesome, you'll recall that I play hockey on Tuesday nights as an excuse to drink beer and pass out in my bed, under the bluish glow of my TV-come-nightlight. If there's a moral in any of this nonsense, it's this: do not fuck with me on Wednesday mornings. Just don't. I'm tired. I'm sore. I have a heachache. I do not want to be your friend.
So this is why November 2 is more-or-less blurry, except for a few hazy highlights that shone through my codeine haze.
My new vehicle (3 months old) went into the garage to have something fixed. It was a small item, covered by warranty, but it was a nuisance all the same. There's something about the inside of a car dealership that just makes me feel.... dirty.
Work sucked in that special way that makes me truly ponder whether I need to earn money to survive. People were calling me - on the phone! - and asking me for things. They were doing this on a Wednesday.
But I had a lunch date with a group of co-workers and that was pretty okay by me. While it was a sad occasion - saying farewell to a colleague moving on to less-brown pastures - I at least got a nice meal, a bottle of beer, some reasonable conversation, and the afternoon mellowness that only a full belly can provide.
The evening was dinner and conversation with my visiting In-laws. They're nice people (even for a Wednesday). As is the evening tradition when visiting with my father-in-law, there were beverages. And on this particular evening it was 2 rather large glasses of Irish Whiskey - a souvenir gift from my In-laws' recent vacation in Ireland. This provided sufficient lubrication for watching the late-evening news on TV, which is another tradition under these circumstances.
So that's November 2nd - yet another Wednesday where I resisted the urge to kill.