back in the game

My alarm went off and I wasn't exactly certain where I was. Things were a little fuzzy. And not only because I didn't have my contacts in, but because my head was fuzzy. And actually my tongue a little, too.

What started out innocently enough as a work networking happy hour, ended with several shots of Tuaca and staying out way past my school-night bedtime.

There was a band. There was female bonding with colleagues. There was flirting. With guys years younger, years older, and one apparently married. (Although, in my defense, he wore no ring.)

Not a bad way to ease back in the "game." Plenty of wingmen (and wingwomen) for backup if neccessary. And free wine. And shots.

I got no digits. I gave no digits. But I did get the promise of set-ups and arranged meetings.

Perhaps my sister's plan for my summer may come to fruition. She's convinced I should date a healthy assortment of guys, before settling back into a boyfriend.

Could be an entertaining summer.