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Dear fucking gods, it's the company holiday party today. At 3pm. In the office. 'Cos nothing says "party atmosphere" like the middle of the afternoon on the 9th floor of a midtown Manhattan office building, even if Ayn Rand was once a tenant*.
At least Saveur is catering the event. Now I'll just have to explain to their editor-in-chief why I still haven't written any articles for them. :| Maybe I'll just hide in the photo studio for the duration.
*No, really. That crazy termagant was once employed on the same floor that currently is destroying my will to live (at least while the damned party is going on).
At least Saveur is catering the event. Now I'll just have to explain to their editor-in-chief why I still haven't written any articles for them. :| Maybe I'll just hide in the photo studio for the duration.
*No, really. That crazy termagant was once employed on the same floor that currently is destroying my will to live (at least while the damned party is going on).