St Patrick’s Day

DSC01611.JPGToday’s the day we celebrate St. Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland, much as Samuel L. Jackson is going to drive those damn snakes off a motherfuckin’ plane.

I’d thought it was earlier in the week, and I’d already missed it. The only reason I knew today was The Day was that Google’s logo changed. Which is yet another way I miss having a real job — typically, I go into the office and either I’ve remembered to wear green and everyone says “Happy St. Patrick’s Day” all day and then we all go out after work and get embarrassingly drunk; or I forget that it’s the day and everyone chastises me for not wearing green and then we all go out after work and get embarrassingly drunk.

Today, there are clovers on the Google logo, the comic book blogs mention Green Lantern, and even if I did have an opportunity to go out drinking and didn’t have to work, I wouldn’t feel much like it. I don’t even know how I’m going to get my ritual corned beef and cabbage, since I sure as hell don’t feel like going to an Irish pub in the city tonight.

I’ll say it once again: people with a tendency to be anti-social and nocturnal shouldn’t take jobs working from home. The past two weeks have seemed like one interminably long day. I’m still less than halfway to completion of what I’m working on. I’m behind on all my personal clerical BS — getting taxes together, paying bills, etc. And worst of all, now my alcoholism is suffering. I’m too apathetic to get drunk. How can I call myself Irish?

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