My boss, who I genuinely like and enjoy working for, invited the office staff over for a cookout at his house. Groan. The office closed at 3:30, and we all headed to his home in Hunt Valley. Moments before I closed up shop, I found out that another colleague was not bringing his two kids - a three-year-old towhead boy and a six-month-old girl. While I actually like my colleagues, I'd mostly been looking forward to hanging out with these two little ones. Oh well.
So the cookout was as awkward as you might expect, and I was doubly awkward because I haven't slept in days and was doing all I could to make awake, polite conversation, and because I'd eaten an entire pizza about three hours before I arrived at this cookout. But, I forced myself to eat three fourths of a cheese burger - I cut it in four and committed to at least making it look like I ate it.
Because I'm mature like that.
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