The Colombian called and invited me to go to Mardi Gras next week. In New Orleans. A fifteen hour drive and 3 days of drunken celebration. He is going with his friend and his friend's girlfriend. Awkward! And awesome!
Here is my first problem: I realized tonight that I am now too grown to get excited about a last-minute road trip with strangers and an adventure in a far away city involving costumes and alcohol. It really sounds like 30 hours of small talk, a much needed shower in a nasty cheap motel, crowded streets, a constant headache, and no alone time for 4 days.
The other half of me wishes that I didn't have a job that required me to be a rational, dependable adult. My 1/3 life crisis would send me into a carload of happy 23 year-olds for a crazy Louisiana adventure.
Oh well. This time my job protects me from myself.
Here is my first problem: I realized tonight that I am now too grown to get excited about a last-minute road trip with strangers and an adventure in a far away city involving costumes and alcohol. It really sounds like 30 hours of small talk, a much needed shower in a nasty cheap motel, crowded streets, a constant headache, and no alone time for 4 days.
The other half of me wishes that I didn't have a job that required me to be a rational, dependable adult. My 1/3 life crisis would send me into a carload of happy 23 year-olds for a crazy Louisiana adventure.
Oh well. This time my job protects me from myself.
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