Countdown

Today was supposed to be a day off, and yet, like so many other days, it was stuffed to the gills. I almost want to write that I get more free time at work, but since I was ready to quit my job yesterday, I cannot even think such a thing in clear conscience.

Four and one half days from now, however, I shall be on vacation and such things will cease to exist for a space of time. Plus, there will be drinking. Ohhh, so much drinking.

Is it wrong, imaginary friend, to dream of this type of debauchery? Is it illicit? Is it the brink of addiction? Or is it merely the most reasonable plan for St. Patrick's Day? I think the last is true. While SPD is a saint's day, to be celebrated with all the reverence of any other Catholic holiday, I am not Catholic. I'm just half Irish, and not by personal history, but only by DNA. I can't think it wrong to celebrate as my people do; with drunken idiocy.

So. Funds for SPD drinks at as many Irish pubs as possible...check. A way to get back to the hotel...check. Roommate informed of these intentions...check. A fistful of condoms, because hey, if I'm drunk, so too will others be...check.

After all, a failure to plan is a plan to fail.