Where’s the ‘hangover helper’?

Check-out time from the hotel was at 11 a.m. today. I passed out hard when I got home from the prom somewhere in the wee hours. I was fully awake at 7:45 a.m. But I didn’t move till, oh, 10:20 a.m. At which time I did the fastest butt-scrubbing in the history of butt-scrubbing.

Forty minutes later, I was settled into another hotel. I’ve been wandering around the Inner Harbor. Got a lovely spicy mocha from Caribou, too. I miss cities — being on foot, even in this ridiculous cold, is welcome exercise.

Last night really was the best of times and worst of times. I felt like a princess in my prom dress. I flitted about like the social butterfly I am, basically getting wine from all seven of the booze stations at the Maryland Club. I schmoozed, I socialized, I rocked my little corner of the universe. What really kind of surprised me was how many people introduced themselves to me — “Oh, Goddess! So glad you flew up for the prom — I was hoping to meet you!”


I spend every day drowning in the specter of incompetence and inadequacy … inventorying what I have to offer and what is needed from me … and not seeing enough overlap. And wondering whether I should just flush the mind meds down the toilet because I haven’t had one goddamned creative idea since this time last year when I first got on them.

I got some weird news while I was getting dressed. It didn’t surprise me. Nothing does anymore, really. And my fight-or-flight response — which is always programmed to “flight” — got powered on to “fight.”

I don’t mean fight as in “fighting for” something. Rather, to fight against it.

And I did.

More to come on that.

Needless to type, I got drunk as an everlovin’ skunk off of Chardonnay. Way to impress the colleagues, Goddess!

Everyone said I seemed sober. Well, everyone except K., who practically carried me home. 🙂 We walked in heels and bitter cold, and she locked arms with me and kept me upright and moving forward. I was pretty loopy. I promised myself I wouldn’t get too far gone. But at some point when I ran into one of my “boys” and had a wonderful conversation, I was exhilarated. And ready to party!

Speaking of my boys, I just learned that I’m going to get some out-of-town company this evening. So I’m going to get some rest and wait for my gentleman friend to arrive. I love, love, love my travels. And I love them even more when it means I can share parts of them and see people I otherwise wouldn’t.

I wish I could somehow combine the culture and excitement of Baltimore with the heat and beauty of South Florida. I mean, I guess I do, with the office being split between the two places. But I’m wondering whether it’s time to tell them that I need another change of scenery. My “kids” have begged me to figure out a way to get transferred to the Baltimore office. And truthfully, I think I need them as much as they need me right now.

As always, we will see. It’s in God’s hands. And God, if you’ve got the million-dollar idea that’s going to justify my existence and employment, I’d like that first. Because that will determine my direction. And I want, for once, for it to be absolutely right.

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