I guess that's how you know you're getting older. No real regrets for this weekend, other than maybe that I fell asleep during "Afghan Superstar" and missed most of the movie. I'd wake up whenever the audience was laughing at something but was too dopey to figure out what had just happened.
I suppose Wednesday night's mixing of wine, beer and becherovka and about a pack of cigarettes and dancing in the Lucerna Kino Bar with my friends (we were the only ones on the "dancefloor") could qualify as a regret, but it was damn fun.
Until the next morning, when I took the metro out to the parliament (to go to a press conference) and found myself still kind of drunk but with the hangover kicking in. The security staff seemed deeply suspicious of me and looked at my press pass twice, for a very long time.
And interacting with people in any kind of formal or semi-formal way really ain't no fun when you're in such a vulnerable state, people.
I try so hard to be a "real person" but at the end of the day, me at work still comes down to my clumsy messing my sweater up with a yoghurt stain, failing to properly remove it, giving up, rushing to meet someone and trying to mask my lack of being a true professional by being really friendly. Can anyone relate to that? Things like "business attire" and "networking" will never be part of my active vocabulary, I think.
That's all. I'll try to get really drunk and make an ass out of myself so the next column will feature some colorful, crazy shit.
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