:::New Year's PSA, The Partners Smile On Us:::

If you're like me, you get a little annoyed about the puffed up nature of New Year's Eve. Don't feel like waxing poetic about auld lang syne? Neither do I. I've had many a depressing New Year's because I felt like I was the only one who's life hadn't come together within the neat confines of the past 12 months. Let me tell you something -- The Lord cares not a hoot about the Gregorian calendar.

Don't get me wrong, I believe in resolutions and celebrating life, it's just the New Year's overkill that needles me. You don't have to have any startling revelations about life tonight. You don't have to be a new person tomorrow. It's okay. It's o-bee-kay-bee.

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This morning we woke up to the after effects of some freezing rain. When I was little we sang this song at school about Jack Frost skating all over the world and leaving tracks of ice behind him. Judging by the haphazard frosting of ice everywhere, it really did look like Jack Frost had been skating around the Hill last night.





There is a line of topiary bushes in raised planters outside of the Thurgood Marshall building on the way to Union Station. Every time I pass them I stick out my hand and brush the leaves as I pass by. Today the leaves were thick with ice, and as I brushed them they knocked together like heavy crystals on a chandelier.


So, there is absolutely no one in town the week after Christmas. No one. It's like a Washington tradition. Today there were only seven attorneys in the office and 14 staff members. Usually on the eve of a holiday they let us go at 2 pm, but since there was no one in the office, the gods (i.e., the partners) let us go at noon! Hot damn!


I was out. of. there. before the bells tolled 12. You have to escape before they change their minds, or before someone snags you for some last minute help. Yes, yes, I'm flying up the career ladder.

So, I had to buy some envelopes from the post office in Union Station, so I stopped by Johnny Rockets for lunch. Ha! Hello, early 90's! There was a stretch of time in my youth when Johnny Rockets was the coo-el place to go. The food isn't awesome, but I was in the mood for some nostalgia. I remember being obsessed with these tabletop jukeboxes when I was little.


Would you believe that there are at least 3 Johnny Rockets in the DC metro area? I don't understand the fascination. Truth be told, I do stop by once in a blue moon for a chocolate malt shake. Holla!


I'm off to sit under a bhodi tree to reach enlightement before midnight. Om...