...anyway, too much to do. Too much to do. Paperwork piles, and fax piles, and copy-this piles. Now my copy machine broke, and I need to go to OfficeMax. And there's a meeting in an hour and a half, and bills, and the dentist, and my kids, and maybe--somewhere in all this, I can drive down the road eating burritos, because Taco Bell makes "car food".
I did a paragraph of Dead Gorgeous, and another six memos, finished my schedules, and need to run copies of the training exercises. I also have my hand back again--so I can type faster--NEVER stick your hand down a razor. And can talk again (damn, Hope for giving me the illness du jour. I don't have time for sore throat and laryngitis.)
My phone's been ringing so much, I let my voice mail catch it. My kids tell me they don't appreciate playing phone-tag. I don't appreciate four calls during work about a bug in the bathroom. Squash it, or close the door.
Oops, need to go to the bank, check my other email, deposit some money into my account so I don't bounce all over the place, and drive-thru.
Gotta run--
3 comments:
I was tired before reading your blog. Now I'm exhausted. Take care of yourself, Cup.
Misery and inconvenience are so much fun to write about later! It's also makes for interesting reading.
(I'm laughing WITH you. Not AT you. Pfft.)
Ahem.
Um, what do you mean by sticking your hand down a razor? I'm having trouble picturing what exactly you did do...
lol--better to laugh than to whine. Razors...long story about being stupid and sticking your hand in other peoples bags :)
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