sick and tired

I’ve missed a couple days of posts because I came down with my first cold since I’ve been here.

Thavy and Shelly called Wednesday night to see if I wanted to go for dinner. I’d already eaten, but I agreed to meet them for a beer or two. After dinner, they dragged me into a taxi, and we went to a bar called Carnegie’s. A lot of ex-pats hang out there, and apparently its gimmick, if you will, is that the female customers are encouraged to dance on the bar. That pretty much describes the scene there, except for the big rastafarian dude who joined the dancing ladies.

We left around midnight and headed to Bar None, a decent club in the basement of the Marriott. There we met up with Thavy and Shelly’s friend Isabelle, who is engaged to a manager there. Anywya, a few hours, songs and gin and sodas later, I managed to stagger into a taxi.

I woke up on my couch – with a sore throat and the sniffles – about ten minutes before I had to leave for work, took a quick shower and grabbed another half hour of shut-eye in the taxi to our office at Airline House.

Not really a typical Wednesday night for me. No wonder I’m sick.

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