what an end to my week. It's been a little crazy, and I only have myself to blame.
You see, there's this bar, Martuni's, and whenever I go there I seem to get into some sort of stupor. Knowing very well that I had a job interview on Friday morning at 11:00am I proceeded to down 2 drinks, which at this fine establishment is the equivalent to 4 drinks. Did I mention that I didn't eat any dinner? What a swell idea! By the time we decided to depart I think I might have shared some thoughts (with my outside voice) about some of the open mic singers and swapped a few inappropriate comments about my former job to my replacement and my friend who still works there. I shared a cab to the BART with the replacement fella and have no recollection of the conversation we might, or might not have had. I do remember giving him an inexplicable hug and kiss on the cheek for making sure I got to the BART safely. I also remember almost falling down the stairs of the BART. Knowing if I would get on the right train was quite an ordeal and I think I might checked my palm pilot with the BART schedule 87 times. When my Superman (a.k.a. brilliant husband) came to pick me up at the BART station I had to pee so badly that I wasn't sure if we should stop somewhere on the road or if I should just wait ... I made it home, but it wasn't pleasant.

Now let me set this straight, I'm not writing about this because I'm proud of it (although I think it's comical and tragic at the same time). I'm actually quite ashamed. It's embarrassing and I feel like if I write it down I'll feel like I'm absolved from my guilt. I think the saddest thing is that I followed just about the same sequence of events the last time I went to this very same bar. So my solution is to do to one of the following a) never show my face in Martuni's again b) never go to Martuni's with these two gentlemen again b) tell the wait staff when I walk in there that I have a problem with this place and please only give me one drink c) if I exhibit this wretched behavior again I should at least get up and sing a song at the piano, giving others the chance to make fun of me.

Needless to say, I was quite ill the next day and almost didn't make it to my interview. It was a humbling experience and I hope to never repeat it. After all my bitching and moaning about not having a job I go and try to ruin the chance I have at getting one. And I also have to say that if it weren't for my brilliant husband I would have never made it through Friday at all. He really knows how to take a hangover and turn it into a day of accomplishments. I didn't know I could learn so much from him about such things, but this relationship just keeps on giving.

So I've learned my lesson, and walk away from this experience with a little less dignity than I had a week ago and a new box of Pepto Bismol in my medicine cabinet.