I made an oops this morning and used my last half-sick-day to sleep in. When I did get to work, I dove in and busted my ass for a few hours. After work, I finally went out for drinks with some of the paralegals. We went to a bar called Warehouse. This joint is bustling, modern, popular for aprés-travail drinks, and the cocktails are all named after Dave Matthews songs. (Note: "Warehouse".) I had a Narragansett/Aristocrat coffee-milk stout and a G&T, we chatted about all manner of topics, exchanged snapchat names, and bonding was accomplished. Apparently I'm seen in a decent light work ethic-wise, which is nice to hear. Post-bar, we trekked to a Walgreens to get ice cream and other snacks. When I got home, Nathan gave me considerable assistance with the party playlist and I spectated as he explored the newest installment of Super Smash Bros.
Quote of the day:
"This burrito isn't Mr. Right, but it's Mr. Right Now." - Kara, re: a wrap
...
[redacted]: "Have I told you about the time I did mushrooms?"
Client: "This is my lawyer!"
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