I had such structured plans for yesterday- wake up early to work on my SOP project, get some reading in for one of next week’s exams, finish sending out resumes, get to practice, go to class, and end the day with a nice long run. Everything went fine until I picked up my friend Jen for class.
Now Jen and I have been carpooling together (go environment!) for the past two months. Her house is right on the river where my boathouse is, so it’s an incredibly easy trip. And the girl is hysterical- when we’re together we’re constantly laughing about something. But the thing is, we’re not exactly a great influence on each other.
Last week we were driving to class when we got a call from our friend Rosie. She asked us to meet her at the bar for a quick pint before class. We’re hardly the class slackers- Rosie, Jen and I have the three top grades in the class. But what started out as one drink ended up with several drinks and hanging out with the firemen’s convention that just happened to be meeting at the same bar.
Last Thursday was similar. We went to our classes this time, and afterwards the three of us met up to go to another local bar. I stayed sober to drive, but the two of them? Not so much.
Last night I was set on getting home for my run. I saw the glint in Jen’s eye and I ignored it, refused to make eye contact. “Caaaaaaitlyn,” she started singing. I protested that I needed to get my run in. “Flllllyyyyyyers and Phiiiiiillies are on,” she added, knowing that would get me to the cusp. I grinned, she knew she had me.
I guess the point of this story wasn’t what happened at the bar (even if I was drunkenly texting T the entire time). It was what happened after. I did something that no girl should ever do.
I started shopping. Online.
This is what I (drunkenly) bought last night:
1. The Subway Sign from Pottery Barn;
2. Two Marc Jacobs bags;
3. Two pairs of shoes, one being a bright yellow pair of heels;
4. Two sets of Calvin Klein Lingerie from Nordstroms;
5. New running shorts
It could have been worse though. I can think of about 83 things I’m glad I wasn’t drunk enough to buy. Namely, Crocs. Or the actual Christian Louboutin heels that I wanted.