divine angst

You know you’re in trouble when you attend a Christmas party and have a ten-minute conversation with someone about the legality of prisons refusing to hire women as guards. I had a good time, though, and am definitely glad I stepped away from outlining to be social for a few hours. Even I did get stepped on by a very obnoxious drunk guy. Who then got loud. As a fellow party attender said after the drunk guy stumbled away, “I just exchanged insults with a drunk; that must mean it’s time to go home.”

I have a rule I try to follow for party attendance: Leave while you’re still having fun. If you follow this rule, you never wake up the next morning regretting having gone out the night before. Chances are, you won’t have gotten into a fight with anyone, nor will you have gotten so drunk that you made a fool of yourself. You will probably remember everything that happened. It’s a good rule. Sometimes I don’t don’t follow it–usually because I’m having so much fun that I don’t want to leave. But last night, I could see that I was on that edge–if I stayed any longer, I would stop enjoying myself. I only regret that I was out past midnight; I definitely didn’t want to get up this morning.