I’m going to happy hour tonight. ME! I know I talk a LOT about drinking but I’m more talk than reality. Probably because my mother was an alcoholic, and with a genetic predisposition to addiction I’ve always been extremely leery of getting started down that path. During my first marriage I almost never drank. Even when it got seriously bad, or maybe especially because it got seriously bad. I didn’t want the hooch to become a crutch.
Between marriages, when I began exploring the single world again I did start drinking some. Mostly beer or wine, usually with a group of women out dancing somewhere on a Saturday night. Once in a great while a margarita. But I can count on one hand the times I’ve been genuinely drunk. And I can count on that same hand the number of times I’ve been invited to happy hour.
I’m not sure why I’m writing this post; it’s sort of evolving from where I thought it was going to go. I was invited to join some of the women in the office for happy hour tonight to help one of our co-workers celebrate her birthday. While I like most of my co-workers, I’ve rarely socialized with them (for more than 10 years I commuted 2+ hours each way; I wasn’t about to stay late if it wasn’t required!) so this will be a first. And they’re all babies, relatively speaking – the birthday girl just turned 37! It’s a safe bet I’ll be the oldest one there.
This could be interesting … or not. I’ll keep you posted.
Have a glorious weekend everyone!