Through the looking-glass

Today began with both of us being too ill to get out of bed. Why were we under the weather? That would be the surreal Alice-in-Wonderland experience that was last night. The company I work for held a summer party. And while you might think 'work party, ugh,' as I did at first mention, it was mind-blowingly awesome. When I saw my coworkers taking entire bottles of wine away from the (free!) bar rather than messing about with mere glassfuls, and singing, air-guitaring and making the 'rock on' sign along to 'Living on a Prayer' and 'Summer of '69' just as enthusiastically as any red-blooded North American, I fell in love with them all over again. Work hard, play hard!

Buses picked us up and took us out to a country manor, where we were met with glasses of champagne at the door.

There was dinner and schmoozing:

And croquet:

And lots and lots of wine:

Which made me think this was a hallucination:

Later in the evening there were more stiltwalkers, feathers, maracas, whistles, glow-in-the-dark toys, fire-throwing acts, and a packed dance tent. There were rumours of indiscretions in the manicured topiary shrubs. Jeff spotted a man on the dancefloor wearing women's underwear on his head (not someone I know, sadly, because imagine the mileage you could get out of that back at the office on Monday!).

In other words, this crushing hangover? Well worth it, a thousand times over!