It’s around 12:30am on St. Patty’s day and I’m currently laying in bed watching one of my cats get entangled in my blinds. Outside those blinds, just passed the window, are numerous people engaging in a night out at the bar to celebrate this “holiday.” Inside, it’s quiet. I just turned my music off in hopes of falling asleep soon(ish) because I have a long day of work tomorrow. The whole apartment is dark and the door is locked but by the sounds of the streets outside, I’m not going to be sleeping any time soon. There are many screaming people and in the last hour or so I’ve heard three ambulances drive by.
It’s rather scary to me. One of my friends works at a pizza shop not too far from a popular bar that has a tent set up for this weekend. She said there was an incredible amount of staggering drunks that came in demanding hot pizza and whatever other food sounded like it would fill their stomachs. She also said a good amount of these people came from the beer tent…and they left because a bunch of people started puking. I guarantee at least two of those puking people will claim they had “such an amazing night” but they “can’t even remember” what they did. It’s odd to me: having fun you can’t remember. I’ve heard that drinking increases the risk of depression and anxiety, which are two things that I really hope to live without, so it strikes me funny that people still engage in way too many beers and an excessive amount of shots for…fun. Blech.
Now, back to the people outside…
There is one guy downstairs, in particular, who keeps screaming slurs of drunken fighting words in the middle of the street and all I can make out is “fucking…I wasn’t trying to…fucking…fuck…ahhhh.” I’ve watched, creepily, through my blinds for a second or two just to see what all the commotion was about. He’s had multiple friends try and calm him down and every time I think they succeed, a minute or two later, he’s yelling again. His arms flail and he even ripped his shirt off over his head…which is silly because it’s quite cold outside, but I’m sure he’s got enough liquid courage in him to keep him warm by this point. On his last rampage his keys fell out of his pocket and he has yet to pick them up. For now, they will sit on the sidewalk until he leaves his current state of wasted.
Today I woke up, went to work and, honestly, forgot it was even St. Patty’s day until the consumer I work with was wearing all green. I came home and took a decently long nap. I was tired due to the lack of sleep I’ve gotten the previous couple of nights and struggled all day with keeping my eyes open. I’m currently at a point in my life that being awake at work outweighs going to the bar and getting hammered with a bunch of loud drunk people. I’ve partaken in that scene before and it was fun at the time, but now I can’t stomach the thought of another terrible hang over. It takes so much effort to get drunk enough to not be bothered by other drunk people. I’d rather just avoid the situation all together.
Besides, I’m rather comfortable in my sweats and sweatshirt. My bed and fuzzy blanket are very inviting as well.