Yesterday was the most boring day of my life. I can definitively say this.
I came to work, sat in my desk chair, and did absolutely nothing for, oh, about 9 hours. Since I am paranoid about my personal data leaking out on my work computer (gmail passwords, etc.), I obsessively checked my phone every five minutes, eager for something -- anything -- to do (never have I looked so forward to receiving even a Borders coupon).
D wasn't around for lunch yesterday since he took the day off for his interview with that law firm (fingers crossed -- it sounded like it went well), so I saw no point in venturing outside to brave the frigid afternoon temperatures for a walk, a trip to the accessories aisle at Forever 21, anything to get out of my dreadfully dull, quiet office environment where the only sound is my boss slurping his bowl of noodles at his desk. *shudders* When husband isn't available and secretary-friend is out, I usually lean on retail for an escape worthy of taking Ludes in the '70s (not that I've ever taken Ludes or lived during the '70s, but a girl can dream). How many pairs of boots does it take to make me happy? Take a gander at my closet someday.
ANYWAYS, just when I thought I'd go postal at my desk from listening to the same six Hall and Oates songs looped on my iShuffle for two hours, it was time to go. Glorious, succulent 5pm was here. Oh. Wait. I had to stay later because I had a work banquet to attend that evening. Splendid! Because what I really crave doing on a Monday night is not watching [insert any TLC show here] as I'm curled up and comfy in my pajamas. Nope, I'd much rather be out in what feels like sub-zero temperatures, tottering a few blocks in heels to hang out with a bunch of obnoxiously wealthy, white middle-aged lawyers. Well okay, I just might as long as I get a free steak dinner out of the deal....
LATER THAT NIGHT:
Just before being seated I'd been standing out on the patio in high heels (my feet were killing me) as I listened -- and sipped generously from my glass of pinot noir -- to a couple lawyers talk about all the transactional work they've been doing.
Confession: In all the lawyer functions and firm meet-and-greets I've been to, I've found that litigators are SO much more fun to converse with than transactional attorneys. Litigators are used to going to trial, to speaking in front of crowds/juries, so they inevitably have a knack for telling stories, for public speaking. They know how to keep banter going at a brisk pace and they manage conversations well. Transactional attorneys, at least the ones I've met, are so socially awkward!! They're a lot like most of my coworkers. The two on the patio were no exception. Both of them were very nice, but I was the only one asking questions to keep the conversation going, and they would give three-, maybe four-word answers, staring around nervously after each response.
Sooo I moved our little party indoors to the main dining room after about 10 minutes of this, and they continued being awkward as we mingled with everyone else inside. Then I had a strange conversation with a legal PR lady who said she always thought about moving to my current town with her husband and kids, but decided against it because it was "too yuppie." Then she laughed. As if being "too yuppie" was an irritating little problem, like back acne or an ingrown toenail. If being yuppie is wrong, then I don't want to be right.
By this point, everyone had become three sheets to the wind. Lawyers and other executives came up to introduce themselves with glassy eyes and sideways name-tags pinned to their suit lapels.
"Hiiii I'm sothlkdiopl..." they said.
"Very nice to meet you," I said back, shaking their hands and flashing my best Miss America vaseline smile, having no idea in hell what they just said. Exchange business cards, move on. Rinse and repeat.
Somehow I've been assigned to sit at "Table 1" -- only dubbed as such because head lawyer guy, who seems to be somewhat of a biggie (and is a litigator!), is sitting at it as well. Conveniently (or inconveniently, depending on how you look at it), he is sitting directly across from me. He gives the toast to the room before the dinner kicks off and is all jovial and Sean Connery-ish (in his later years), which isn't a bad thing. I got to order whatever I wanted off the menu, which was amazing since we were at a five-star seafood restaurant that I'd never probably eat at on my personal dime unless D landed a firm job, so of course I chose the most expensive thing because I could. Prime rib. Me gusta.
Sean Connery talked for days, telling us all the at the table his stories of big cases he's worked on and people he's met with (he went to Harvard Law so he knows many peeps). I found a friend in a Stanley Tucci-lookalike seated next to me who was just like Nigel from Devil Wears Prada. Personality and all.
All in all it wasn't altogether as terrible as I thought it would be (since Monday nights are usually my time to come home and veg, to prepare myself for the rest of the week). Plus it definitely made up for the first half of my dreary day, pinot noir and all.