Happy post-Patty's day, and good luck with that hangover. I suggest a Olympia-and-V8 (sounds awful but it works), a sleeve of saltines and a giant bottle of Gatorade for your morning breakfast. You'll be fine.
I started my drinking early, and was snoring in bed by 11. Not so bad. After going into work for an entire hour and a half (had to cover the end of someones shift), I kindly sat down at the bar to collect my shift drink. The daytime bartender, Charlie, greeted me with a rare burst of St. Patrick's Day enthusiasm in the form of a boozy concoction aptly named a "Dirty Leprechaun."
Two hours later I find myself at Big Marios, doing shots with a couple of co-workers. My boyfriend calls ("Where are you?! We're supposed to be at my dad's house for dinner!"), and I jump on the bus to head over to his father's annual Jameson and Corned Beef fest. Oh boy.
By 9pm, we are filled to the brim with beef, potatoes, cabbage and guinness. We stumble home, where I sit around contemplating my life, and where I'm going with it. I'm sick of school, but I should go to grad school. I want to make money, but I want to keep not caring about money. I want to travel, but I want to feel settled down. I don't know. Maybe I should pick one thing and stick with it.
Look at this guy. He knows exactly what he wants to do and he does it 100%. It may just be that he has made a career of being an 'extra," but at least he's not doing a half-assed job of it.
He just got an award, too!
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