SO.

Saturday, I had a choice.

Go to work at my ‘other job’ in order to pay my bills, or go out to a retirement party for one of my bosses.

I knew it would be kinda dull at the ‘party’, but I also knew that if I do not take some time for ME that I would go even more freakin crazy than I am.  I knew that if I went to this retirement gig I would be home at a decent time and be able to get to bed at a decent time and be able to sleep until a decent time in the AM.

However, missing a night of work at the paper costs me money in lost hours.

Whatever.

I went to the event with the coworkers, solo, expecting the evening to be low-key, mellow.  Plus free booze and free food is kinda hard to pass up.

Later, I was getting geared up to go to a local watering/dancing place.  I haven’t been to one of these places for several weeks, and the last time I went to one was several months after the previous time.  So, yeah, it’s been a loooooooooooong time since I treated myself to some time out.  I have gone out with my roomies once in a while, don’t get me wrong, but we do the lounge thing for wings and a beer, not the freakin’ dance/pick up bars.  Different vibes.

I left the retirement thingy, came home and changed into something less formal, and pumped myself up to go to this other place.  Yikes……..

I got there at about 11pm, early enough to avoid the worst of the line up at the door.  As I walked in, following the herd (I could almost hear us mooing), the 18 year old doorman didn’t even want to see my ID (although the previous 17 people all had to empty their pockets and pee in a cup in order to get in)…as I went by and he waved me in all I could say was “Thanks”….yeah, fuck me I am old now.

I’m the tallest person in the joint, except for one big ass mofo that is at least six inches taller than I am.  I notice this as I am checking out the dance floor and see all the heads bobbin’ and weavin’ in sync to the muzac.  Not that I am much of a dancer, but there was NO originality out there…they all looked like Ricky Martin wanna beeeeeee’s.  I’m not exactly sure what that means….

I ordered a beer from the 18yr old bartender, and wandered around the joint, trying not to jostle the 18yr old girls and the 18 year boys as they went about the charade of trying to look cool and hot at the same time.  So not my scene.  Pretty sad actually.

These kids are trying to have fun, and there’s this old fat guy wandering among them.  I felt like a parent chaperone, standing out in the crowd like a beacon.

I lasted one beer, barely half an hour, and had to leave.

Sunday sucked, except for the couple of hours I got to spend with my daughters.

I was so disheartened by the whole experience, I went to the gym and pounded my legs harder than I have so far, and then sat in the sauna for about 30 minutes sweating my ass off.  Trying to relax.

Now, at 10pm Sunday, I am still wound up tighter than a pauper at a pay toilet.

What will this week bring?