So yesterday was Joel's last day with Pure Networks, which meant the dreaded farewell party. So now you know where this post is going, and the reasoning for my more than appropriate title.
Joel has been through the hardships, and shared many good times with his friends at Pure - but it is now time to move on.So where is he going you ask? He is off to join the world of Google.
But it wouldn't be a proper farewell without a farewell bash. So Joel knew he would have a drink or two so he decided to leave his car at home. Of course, he is a responsible guy and this seems like the responsible thing to do. Mistake Number 1. Unfortunately, I couldn't attend as I had to tie up some lose ends at college. No problem - I would pick up Joel from the Eastlake Bar & Grill when he finished saying his farewells and we would have a relaxing evening being that I finished my finals for summer quarter just the night before. Mistake Number 2.
To cut a long story short, I picked Joel up at 8.30pm (yes, this doesn't sound like a big bash but when your other half who never drinks has been drinking since 4.30pm then it is a hello of a long time). We arrive home just as Joel is about to throw up in my car. That wasn't going to happen as I managed to kick him out before the projectile vomit hit my car door. By now he is laying sprawled on the pavement throwing up.
You know if someone was telling me this story I would be in fits of laughter, but it is strange how things become less amusing when you (as in I) have to deal with the repercussions of someone else's stupid actions. So it wasn't funny at all when I had to take care of the drunk (aka Joel) who was sprawled on the pavement, and had been there for the past 45 minutes - with no thoughts of coming in the house any time soon. Should I remind you my blogger friend that it is now nearing 9.30pm, I haven't eaten dinner yet and will need to get to bed so I can get up at 6am.
Well, I soon learned that this was not going to be a relaxing night vegging out in front of the soap box. It wasn't even going to be a night where I would get a whole lot of sleep.
I managed to convince Joel to drag himself into the house; only after yelling at him that it would not be wise for me to leave him outside like he suggested. So he drags his arse inside, and ends up on the bathroom floor where he continues to throw up till about 11.30pm. By now I was a little concerned as I had done my research online and it appeared that he had a case of alcohol poisoning. Out of concern for my man, and selfish concern that I would not be getting nearly enough beauty sleep tonight, I called 911. The medics felt that he may be fine but I should keep an eye on him and call them if I needed them. Well, it is hard to keep an eye on someone when they are sprawled on the bathroom floor and you are snuggled into your cosy bed with a dog who is traumatised by the evenings entertainment. I surmised that as long as Joel was vomiting then he was still breathing, which meant that he is still alive and has not choked on his own vomit and died...which means I get some shut eye.
At 6am I awoke to the sweet sound of Joel vomiting, which I might add, is not as bad as the dreadful sound of my alarm, and I dragged myself to work. Just another day.....