Today my brother completes his 29th year of life. That's my unconventional way of aging us all prematurely. Instead of saying "I'm 29," he should acknowlege he's entering the 30th year of non-fetalhood.
Happy Birthday.
Mushiness time is going to be pre-empted by my quick list of "how to have a bad Thursday:"
1. stay up too late, after being at work until 8 p.m. with "issues"
2. wake up too early, 5 a.m., after only sleeping four hours
3. have lines from "Charlotte's Web" running commentary: When you're stomach's empty and your mind is full, it's very hard to sleep.
4. be nervous about pondering property ownership potential and problems, get sick
5. not use extra time to leave early for work due to husband's leaving town later
6. leave for work on time but find that car does not start (again)
7. go back upstairs to ask husband to move items needed for trip from working car to non-working car for temporary storage and later packing so can use working car to get to work
8. arrive at work late
9. discover that office door closed last night does not have working lock and spend 30 minutes jacking at handle assembly with butter knife, screwdrivers, etc., until production staff arrives and demonstrates correct knife-placement gleaned from having seen previous operation on door by boss, and then allow stronger sales staff to apply necessary combination of force and finesse to spring it
10. welcome new intern whose office door is now open and now henceforth will have no door handle, as people here can't be trusted to label broken doors of doom with "do not lock" signs
Curb Girl: what an urban-based accidental journalist accidentally thinks when she's falling face-first on figurative pavement
2 comments:
"oh how I hate to get up in the morning!"
I know it's Saturday now and I'm late on condolences for Thursday but I hope things are looking up since then. Perhaps the weekend holds relaxation and fun. Hope so!
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