I got the phone call yesterday afternoon saying that I got the job. I sent an email this morning to my boss to give him a few weeks notice that I would soon be leaving. I am so insanely happy. Crushing uncertainty has been resolved. I smiled ear to ear, jumped up and down, laid on my back on my bed to kick my feet in the air. Yes yes yes. I went to dinner at Spotted Pig last night with Jacob to celebrate and for some reason, some attempt to not order the same thing I get every time there, did not order the burger that I love there.
We went to Marie's Crisis from there and then went uptown to Industry to meet up with Dwayne. We were there for a drink before going to the Ritz to dance. I had two drinks there, one at Industry, and one at Marie's Crisis. I drink a lot and this was not a lot. At some point last night, I blacked out. I don't know what that expression means, didn't. I never black out. Jacob and I left the Ritz and walked to Steak n Shake, me wanting that burger that I passed on earlier in the evening, only to find it closed. That is the last I remember of the night. Jacob told me that it happened all of a sudden that I couldn't stay awake, that I seemed insanely wasted out of nowhere. I don't want to assume the worst in people, but I really think that I may have been drugged at some point last night at the Ritz because I have never blacked out like that. I woke up this morning fully dressed on top of my bed. Jacob said that as soon I walked in the door, I fell straight on the bed and wouldn't wake up at all when he tried to get me to take off my clothes or get under the covers. He did manage to get my shoes off. Thankfully I was with Jacob to get me home, so no real harm done, but worrying nonetheless.
But the good news here is that I have a new fucking job, that I am going to be leaving my current one in about three weeks, that the exit is clearly marked and in sight, that I am almost there, that changes are occurring in this new year, that I am still alive and not dead yet.