Fancy Corporate Holiday Party tonight. Rainbow Room at Rockefeller Center. Endless Bellini. Lovely. The dress code for women was "business cocktail". I'm pretty sure that's an oxymoron. I think they just took "cocktail" and threw the word "business" in front of it in hopes of negating the slutty factor. I tried to focus more on the business factor, as in, something I could wear all day and not feel ridiculous in either setting.
Say, thanks to my office Secret Santa for switching me to water when he noticed that I needed to hold onto his sleeve to keep from falling over. But if calling out your boss for not wearing his wedding ring is an offense punishable by termination, I'm going to need a new job come Monday. At least I didn't wrestle the Chief Investment Officer into the condiment table like someone did at Monday's Team Party at an Irish Pub. That's about when I split from the last party.
Word on the street is that the generic brand Pain Aid in the medicine cabinet in the Copy Room makes a good hangover cure. I'll have my own reason to get into the office come hell or high water tomorrow: Payday; my first paper check with the new job. As I was waiting for an elevator to leave the party tonight, one of my coworkers said to me, "I won't forget our deal, but don't worry. We don't hire people here who don't fit in. And remember: see you before nine a.m. tomorrow morning!". Urgh. Time to drink another glass of water and hit the sheets.
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