Breakfast of Champions

Wednesdays have never been a super day for me for one reason or another. This time it specifically revolves around the fact that I don't get out of class until nine. Which is kind of ridiculous. Even though the professor is pretty amazing. Nine is just ridiculous.

Plus, I'm just making excuses because I slacked off most of the day after I finished the majority of my thesis. I had all the intention to write before bed. But I passed out watching Dilbert episodes on Netflix (who knew Dilbert had a series in the late 1990s?!?).

Today, I did what every (read: most) female New Yorkers dream of doing at some point in there city existence: I went to the Barney's Warehouse Sale. So I left empty-handed, at least I ventured over and can now check that off of my superficial bucket list of things to do while still living in the city. Honestly, maybe it was because we went so late in the afternoon, but there was nothing worth dropping "sale" money on.

And as we made a pit stop at Better Burger so I could pump some iron, protein, and overall fatty grass-fed, free-range hormone-antibiotic meat into my system since I've been re-suffering my "pseudo-epileptic episodes" and need to monitor my diet, Andrea was offered the job at the hospital she applied at thanks to her soon-to-be sister-in-law.  (run-on much?) Only Andrea can land a high-paying, part-time job with amazing benefits at a coveted hospital within five days of a spontaneous interview. And honestly, that's part of the reason I love her so much.

We ended the afternoon with a celebratory drink at some random pub in the Penn Station area. We use to wake up and celebrate the day with a "breakfast of champions" which consisted of a 12-pack of beer poured in coffee cups split between us. Now with responsibility and a not-so-up-to-par bodily system I gave her the Appletini I ordered to ching-ching with and sipped on a delicious Magic Hat #9.

I always enjoyed Thursdays.

Andrea's Celebratory Toast, Penn Station, February 2011