A Big One.
Woo. My job may blow harder than a hurricane wind, but damn if we don't know how to party. We've started "happy hours" once a week at work, which I put in quotes because although we start after work and take advantage of cheap beer specials, we spend a lot more than an hour doing our thing. Last night I got home at a little past midnight, so that's a "six and a half happy hours." I did three jaeger-bombs. wtf. Obviously they were not my idea, but there they were, in front of me, waiting to be drunk.
Pennsylvania got their bar results today. I still have 42 days, which is going to really suck around the middle of November, because by then CA will be the only state not to come out with them. I just want to be able to tell future employers "yes, I'm licensed." Why? Because my current job sucks a big one. Big One.
I need to go eat.