Deliciousness

Yesterday morning we got some good news about one of our projects at work and everyone sort of congregated in the hall, discussing it and being happy and awkwardly trying to avoid going back to their desks, and finally the head of our department asked what we should do to celebrate. Someone suggested lunch but there was a client coming in at noon so a few people wouldn't be able to make it, and somehow, I'm not sure how but very quickly, it was decided that we would go for margaritas in the afternoon. But not afternoon as in after work. No, we headed off for the nearest Mexican restaurant at three in the afternoon for the best work celebration ever.

Plus, we didn't have to pick up the tab, and so before we knew it we were ensconced at a long table with huge pitchers of margaritas and baskets of chips and guacamole and cheese quesadillas, and not only that but we were actually talking, and amazingly, the talk wasn't about work. After the obligatory happy toast, we all just started chatting about... normal stuff. Our table was outside on the sidewalk and the weather was warm and everyone was in a good mood and it was just really nice.

I hadn't planned on drinking anything because, you know, Weight Watchers and wasted calories and whatnot, and also I don't really like alcohol that much and I tend to take really big sips, so I am usually better off with water or Diet Coke. But I was sitting there and there were all these pitchers of margaritas and somehow I wound up with a really yummy-looking frozen strawberry swirl margarita in a frosty, salted mug in front of me, and you know what? I drank it. And then I drank another.

I was totally outpaced by my coworkers, one of whom was doing tequila shots two at a time, but for me that's a lot of alcohol, because I can't even remember the last time I had more than one drink. And I was totally feeling the effects. And it was GREAT. And also? While I was drinking the delicious strawberry-ness, I totally indulged in lots of chips and guacamole and even a cheese quesadilla, which, yeah, not so much part of the whole Weight Watchers plan either.

But seriously, it was so fun and happy that the three guys who were at the table near us, sharing their own pitcher of margaritas and giant plate of nachos, leaned over to us a couple of drinks in and were like, "Um, we just graduated college, which is why we're here drinking in the middle of the afternoon, and um, we can't help noticing that you guys have the greatest job ever, and um, can you tell us what company you work for, because we want to apply for jobs there?" Which everyone in their tipsy state thought was HILARIOUS and started asking what they studied and handing out business cards and whatnot, and how awesome would it be if one of those guys wound up working for us? Except that he would be terrifically disappointed to find out that we do not normally spend our afternoons drinking margaritas down the street from our office.

Afterward I went home, still in my buzzed state, and then Torsten and I ordered a pizza and I had three pieces. Or maybe four. Which is a sign that I should stay away from the alcohol not just because of all the empty calories? But also because apparently when I've been drinking I think it's AWESOME to stuff my face with whatever unhealthy stuff is nearest. Frozen margaritas + Weight Watchers = BAD IDEA, apparently.

But the miracle of all miracles? This morning when I woke up? I had actually lost half a pound.