Happy hours

As part of my new job — which is actually my same old job, just done somewhat differently, for a different boss, and from a different seat — I have the option of working from home on Tuesdays. I have a laptop and VPN access, and because I also have a morning commute I’d be just as happy to skip, I plan to take advantage of the option whenever possible.

It wasn’t possible yesterday, however, since I wanted to be in the office at five, when we were heading to the bar around the corner to say goodbye to one of our colleagues, who’s leaving us for other opportunities. It was weird being in the office, since all of my immediate co-workers, the four other development team members who sit around me, were out, and it was weirdly (though not unpleasantly) quiet. It was pretty much just a normal Tuesday.

After work, we went to the bar, and a lot of people passed in and out. This particular co-worker has been with the company for ten years, longer than I’ve been there myself — has that really been eight years? — so there were a lot of people who wanted to stop by and wish him well. Including one of other co-workers who’d left (not by choice) a couple of weeks ago. I was glad to see him, since I’d been out sick with pneumonia when the team went out to say goodbye to him, and I wound up hanging around, talking to him and others and enjoying several drinks (four beers) until about nine o’clock.

I grabbed a slice of pretty terrible pizza at Penn Station — my father insists the only good pizza there is on the Amtrak level, one flight of stairs up — and bumped into a friend of my sister’s also getting pizza to go. We chatted for a couple of minutes, then split to catch our respective trains.

I got home a little before eleven. And while not super drunk, or even remarkably hung-over this morning — I’m a rare, social drinker, and I passed on the offer to do shots with a couple of people last night — I was pretty tired. Hence no post about yesterday until now.

Which is just as well, since today there wasn’t too much to write home about. I did wake up wishing we’d gone out Monday night, so I could have stayed home (and slept in a couple of hours) on Tuesday. But I felt pretty much okay by the time I got to the office. Where we had a breakfast spread of bagels and muffins and pastries, to celebrate our one-year anniversary in the building.

Then I did some work, went to a talk about author care — it can be tricky sometimes — did some more work, and went home. Not a single drop to drink.

Although I did have sushi for lunch again, which I find I’ve sort of been craving of late. So I don’t know what’s up with that.