magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

The group of 'permalancers' at work, freelancers who don't work anywhere else and consider PDG a full-time job albeit without job-security or health insurance or anything else a full-time job tends to offer, shrunk by one today, as Peter.H moves on to a real job with a museum design firm. A bunch of people from the office went for a few rounds of farewell drinks after work at the rooftop bar in the shadow of the Empire State Building that we drank at a few times last year.

And then a Mexican restaurant in the West Village for food and pitchers of margaritas. And then Chris.S's house around the corner for more beer and my big mistake of the evening, smoking pot when drunk. I don't smoke very often. Since I've lived in New York, maybe a half dozen times. But pretty much without fail, if I've been drinking, it leaves me feeling especially messed up, and socially incapacitated. Unfortunately, there's that feature of alcohol, where your ability to make good decisions is seriously impaired. So that, when a pipe is being passed around, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea at the time.

We went to another bar after Chris's, where I really didn't want to drink anymore, but couldn't quite muster the will to go home either. Sometime well after midnight, as the pot was wearing off, I felt well enough for one last beer with Peter and Chris, before the subway ride home.