Crap, Eighty-Four Thousand And ONE Things to Do
Only a man would say that. He thinks that we will run out of things to talk about. I have NEVER run out of things to talk about. I mean except with people like my father-in-law and my grandmother. But some one interesting? PLEASE.
I haven't packed yet. Nothing. And I have double the freak-out coming because I always pack J. I mean I know he isn't a three year old but he forgets things and then I have to listen to him whine because he only brought one pair of underwear. Or worse, he doesn't say anything and I realize that he didn't actually bring any clothes on a seven day trip. So I have to do both. And I still need to laundry. And finish 84,000 things at work before I go home. And go tanning. And buy snacks for the trip. And get the oil changed in the car. And buy razor blades. Seriously. My head is spinning.
In the elevator this morning a woman asked me, "so how are things on the tenth floor," and I just stared at her. I couldn't think of anything remotely polite or witty to say. I mean this was at six so cut me a fucking break lady but still. Nothing. Crickets in my brain.
My brain is just full right now. And scattered and freaking out because of course I didn't get nearly as many things done last weekend as I thought I would and my boss just keeps giving me more and more work and I don't even tell her no I just take it.
And I need to send my mother a birthday card (since I won't be here on her birthday).
And I need to find something to give my brother-in-law for his graduation. Those of you wondering why this is my job when its J's brother have never been married.
And yes, it is a little hard to buy gifts for some one you have met three times.
So any suggestions?
At any rate, must work. And freak out. And try not to scream. And eat, because somehow I never did last night and I could eat my own arm without flinching.
I will see you kids next week!