Yesterday was the holiday party for the other law firm that we share a floor with. Never has a large group of people celebrating been so unappealing to me. I wanted to cry when, at 5:40, after stalling as long as possible, I was told to join the festivities. They were loud, and old, and spoke only of boring lawyer things. I knew nobody, but was hungry and indebted for the invitation, so I snuck in, was fondled from behind by some lousy older male lawyer who thought he was getting away with it (he was) while walking through the crowd to get my name tag, and snagged a few shrimp and a roast beef sandwich. I found a seat in the corner to sit on, politely smiled at my neighbor, ate, and hightailed it out of that horrid situation. My boss, who happened to be celebrating his birthday as well, sang a cheery farewell as I waited for the elevator.
My plan was to get in a run, or at least some yoga, but when I got home I realized I was famished. I had hoped I would have greater opportunity to eat at the party. There was also quite a lot of work for me to do at home. So I ate, and finished cleaning my records, and trimmed my plants, and when I got down on my bedroom floor in down-dog, I promptly set my big toe straight down on a several centimeter long piece of glass. This brought blood, and more blood, and I can’t put pressure on the toe even still. I brought in an enormous amount of stuff to work today hoping that by the end of the work day it will have reduced the swelling enough to hobble through a few miles.
And my boss was later getting in – I somehow feel like I’ve won something when I get in before he does – and punctually set to work taking down the signs the crew left on all the closed office doors last night, highlighting the privacy of the offices.
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