5 Happy Hours

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On the heels of that post, I ended up going to our happy hour for five hours. It was meant for the whole cohort, and we wondered about turnout, but it was just the usual other half–us. Usually we already sit together.

Much tea was spilt. I can feel the British rolling in their graves. I guess it’s better that the turnout was limited, because our lips would have been zipped. But even so, some people were clearly unhappy of certain suggestions, and others were picking up on it. Tea, tea, tea.

As I was lying in bed last night, I would abruptly laugh from just remembering some of the jokes. And the group message, which I’ve semi been waiting for, has been created.

Graduate school is so much more fun with a group of people to talk to and hang out with. Like elementary. Like middle school. Look at me, relearning the things I’ve always known.

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