Inspired by the upcoming Games, I've analogized my post-bar experience thus far to the bronze medal. Not the best, not exhilirating, but not bad either.
While my classmates are off to the far-flung corners of the earth--Mount Kilimanjaro, China, Tibet, etc--revelling in their last free moments before The Man chains them to a desk for life, I've just been a lazy bum/homebody.
My days have been filled with organizing, organizing, and organizing. And a lot of tv breaks. (Tivo + Cable TV = the end to productivity as I knew it, aka, TV on crack).
We just moved into a new abode and it's finally time to purge the apartment of all the crap we really didn't need to lug all the way from Boston. And then fill it up with new crap from Ikea!
I think I'm finally starting to get over the trauma of the whole bar "experience." I did have a mini-panic attack as I was storing away all my bar materials and I did have nightmares about the bar for five straight nights in a row AFTER the last day of the bar.
But now I think I mostly got it out of my system, so to speak. Although, I still have a strong visceral aversion to it--it's like Voldemort--he whose name must not be spoken. Just blogging about it now made me throw up a little in my mouth.