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Swears in the Workplace or My Open Apology for Using All the Bad Words Yesterday

This week was a doozy. Like, I still have a headache from two days ago kind of week. My job isn’t always like this, so I don’t want to complain about that. It’s just…well, I worked so many late nights and early mornings the past month… I’m just really tired. The big project is done, but it seriously kicked my ass. And maybe, possibly, turned me into a psychotic co-worker.

I know, I know…you’re not supposed to blog about work. But YOU GUYS. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I’m equal parts proud and horrified over my bat-shit-crazy behavior yesterday.

Now, I’ve worked on this big project for way longer than a month, as I fit in different parts of it between my “regular” job. But for the past 3-4 weeks? A LOT of time has been spent leading up to yesterday when I would finally finish and pass it on. My stress level was a bit high but the knowledge of ONE DAY MORE gave me that light at the end of the tunnel feeling. Even getting to the office at 6:30 (in the A.M.) had me optimistic about what I could get done before noon. I had positive, you’ve got this, kick ass kind of music playing in the earbuds. I WAS GOING TO KICK SOME SERIOUS PROJECT ASS.

And then the power went out. At 7:45am.

I do believe my heart actually stopped for a few seconds as I stared at that blank computer screen. I knew that I had been saving religiously, but what if my forms and spreadsheets didn’t recover properly? It’s a finicky form to begin with…would something happen to my file? ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME WITH THIS RIGHT NOW????

Something in me snapped.

Every bad word tripped and fell out of my mouth in record time. EVERY. BAD. WORD. Any foul word you can think of, and probably some that I made up right then and there. I said them all. LOUDLY.

I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I’m any sort of angel with the cleanest of all the mouths, but I can honestly say that I’ve never shouted obscenities to an office full of people.

Much like the words that flew out of my mouth that escaped before I even knew what happened, hot tears streamed down my face. Which only seemed to pissed me off more. So I think I said more bad words just to make the tears stop.

I guess I should just be glad that the office wasn’t full since it was only 7:45. And I’m lucky that most the people around me knew that I had been working on this project for so long and for so, so many hours. Most of them.

This is where I probably shouldn’t admit that I was thisclose to punching a coworker in the neck when this person thought it would be funny to try and joke me out of my tantrum. And shine a flashlight in my face. But since I just typed that out and I’m not sure I’m going to delete it, just know that also happened.

My rage was fierce. And my stress level. But OMG MY RAGE WAS SO FIERCE.

Luckily the power came back on about 30 minutes later. Plenty of time for the swears to mellow, but more time for me to stress out about everything I WASN’T accomplishing. But the happy ending to our story is that I DID finish the project. It did have more things to modify and it took all damn day to iron all of those things out, but today I officially wash my hands of this project. Until next year anyway.

Monday marks the start of my busy time at work, so I may or may not be taking my sweet time this morning getting to the office. (Don’t freak out, I totally scheduled it CALM DOWN.) I’m going to finish writing this and then I should probably get in the shower.

Or not.

My headache JUST started going away. Maybe sitting here at home is just what I needed.

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oh, just a reminder that I probably need right now. (I have no idea who to give credit to. Thanks, Pinterest.)
oh, just a reminder that I probably need right now. (I have no idea who to give credit to. Thanks, Pinterest.)

My stress level is a little high. I have been working on a project at work that just won’t go away. I have likened it to being eight months pregnant and feeling like you’re ALWAYS going to be pregnant. I’m ALWAYS going to be working on this project. Forever. Stretch marks and all.

I won’t even let myself read a good book or do any blog reading. I need it, but I just don’t want my brain to take any detours from what I’m working on. No matter how awesome it the detour may be. And, honestly, the only reason I’m writing this at all is because my brain feels like it about to explode. So if I write about…maybe I can contain the mess?

I don’t know.

I feel like I’ve been rude to everyone. Or distracted. Hopefully not too rude. But I probably have. I should probably just wear an “I’m sorry” sign. Because I *am* sorry.

I’m just ready for this week to be over. So ready.

And I feel like I have a lot to say. I mean, when you’re focused on a deadline and everything (EVERYTHING) takes a back seat? All of a sudden, you can think of 20 million things you want to say and write about and discuss. Because you want to be doing anything but what you’re supposed to be doing? THAT. So very much THAT.

Also, have I told your how sorry I am that I’m a distracted and very stressed-out jerk?

Yeah. That too.

Very much that too.

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Making Good on the Promise of a Teenage College Drop-Out

Edited to add: I wrote this a few days ago.
There have been some updates or changes to our plan, but I wanted to post this just as I wrote it. Education is a huge issue for me and my kids. But I recognize that what we are looking for is not what everyone is looking for. Which is 100% ok.

 

I hate not having a college degree.

Like, ridiculous amounts of shame and ugly feelings, I hate it. It doesn’t get brought up very often, because in my crazy, perfectionist mind, it lessens my worth. Lessens what I have to offer. Which is ridiculous. But, in the corporate world…a degree is important. It gives you a leg to stand on.

So here I am. Legless.

I’m sure there is a joke there about having freakishly long legs and being legless, but I’m afraid I cannot connect the dots at this time of day.

Deep down, I know I have importance. I know that I am very smart (brilliant!) and I have a lot going for me. But that doesn’t take away the fact that it’s hard for me to promote myself, my skills…my obvious brilliance (kidding) without that piece of paper that proves that I’ve done the work and the necessary ass-kissing. (Kidding again! Of course you get through college without any ass-kissing!)

I knew it was more important for me to get a job and get benefits when our family was first getting started. It was more important to be able to survive as teenage parents than me getting a college degree. Timing is everything and of course a college degree would’ve helped us not struggle quite so much in the beginning. Maybe. And eventually, we were able to get The Dude through school. But I made a choice. My family needed me to do something different. And I made that sacrifice for my family. Because they are more than worth it.

But that doesn’t mean I still don’t hate not having one. Like always, I have a seriously problem wishing I could have it all.

I’ve spent the better part of motherhood worried about my children’s education. I’ve sacrificed lunch hours and spent so much time driving all over the place to make sure my kids have gone to great schools. I’m ridiculously lucky that my kids’ grandparents could help us so much with after school care and help with some of the driving, too, but we’ve always worried about where our kids go to school. A constant thought process and worry. Thankfully, The Dude and I see eye to eye with regards to schools and the importance of working our ass off so that our kids can have the best opportunities possible.

This may or may not explain why we are in the process of completely rearranging our life and location, in part, for a better education for Ramona.

Currently, we drive Beezus across town every day to the high school that, we felt, would be the best choice for her. That kid is a brainiac and an athlete, so we tried to find a high school for her that would fit her needs and get her into the best colleges possible. And it worked out better than we thought. We lucked out and she is absolutely thriving there. The next step for her is college. (And I will write more about that because DAMN.) We’ve done what we can to get her to the next step. I’m proud of her. And I’m proud of us.

And I want the same opportunities for Ramona. But I want it in a situation and a school that’s right for HER.

Now, I would hate to give the impression that schools where we currently leave are trash and awful. It’s not that. But they don’t offer what we’ve always looked for. And I don’t want to settle when we’ve already come so far. So we’re looking at our options in other areas. Areas where they happen to have schools that fall in line with what we hope for Ramona. Where, hopefully, she will thrive and be successful, too!

Because here’s the thing: I want a better life for my kids. I do. I want them to have the college experience I didn’t. They deserve that. And I don’t want all these years of sacrifice and hard work to be for nothing. Yes, of course they have a say in their life choices. But in our family? College is part of the plan. College isn’t a maybe. And maybe you think I’m projecting this choice onto my children because college is so important to ME, but that’s ok. I’m not telling them what they have to be when they grow up. They just know that college needs to be part of the equation. So that they have that piece of paper. And they can have the options I don’t have. These kids of mine can be whoever the hell they want to be because their hard work and our hard work has paid off.

It probably sounds crazy to a lot of people. But this is important to me. Because I made a promise to myself long ago that I want to make good on. And I will. I’ll continue to work my ass off and run around like the craziest of all the crazies to make that promise happen. There’s just no other option.

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I’m Sorry, But My Family Has a Yogurt Addiction

Here’s the thing. My family gets REALLY excited about yogurt. I’m not even lying and I kinda can’t believe I just announced it like that, but that’s an actual true thing about my family. I will buy a big carton of yogurt and it will be gone the next day. If I buy a bunch of the little containers? HEAVEN HELP US ALL. Because they just can’t help themselves. So if you ask if you can send me some yogurt to try, I am bound by the law of my family to say yes. And I will do so gladly.

So then you tell me it’s from Tillamook? I may be more excited than I should be.

(I just can’t help it. I love Tillamook. Also, cheese.)

peace and loaf...obviously
peace and loaf…obviously

I’m a huge fan of Tillamook. In fact, when my sister visited the Tillamook factory last year, I was more jealous than I would originally admit. But remember when I mentioned the Golden Ticket giveaway? It’s all part of celebrating National Burger Month (YUM) and their Loaf Love tour. Also, YOGURT.

NO artificial sweeteners, flavors or colors. Also? NO high fructose corn syrup or artificial growth hormones
NO artificial sweeteners, flavors or colors. Also? NO high fructose corn syrup or artificial growth hormones

I’d like to say that *I* was able to taste the yogurt and tell you how dreamy it is, but my children took over that job. While I was at work. Thank goodness I snagged a couple of pictures of the goodies we were sent because CHILDREN. But I’m not mad. They loved it and they raved about it. And honestly, it was their opinion that mattered. They want me to buy more (shocker) and were thoroughly entertained by all the Tillamook goodies.

may not be the 11yo's real lips
may not be the 11yo’s real lips

(Okay, maybe it was me that was thoroughly entertained by the goodies. Whatever.)

All I know is that I’m pretty sure that I will do my best to celebrate National Burger Month when my family gets together this weekend. With a proper loaf of cheese, of course. And yes, I will buy more yogurt for my kids and my husband. Not for the burgers, obviously…although, I wouldn’t put it past them and their love of yogurt.

 

 

Tillamook provided the delicious yogurt and wonderful goodies. All opinions are my own.

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I Think I Just Wrote About My Stinky But Cute Dog

I feel like I cannot unsmell what happened at my house this morning. It involves an upset puppy tummy and…well, a fury backside that sometimes gets in the way.

Did I just talk about furry dog behind and dookie on my blog? YES I TOTALLY JUST DID.

Listen. Shit happens. And sometimes shit happens to your dog the first things in the morning as you’re getting ready for work. And you’re the only one that can deal with it because your husband just left, running late with the high schooler. The 11yo is very little help because DOGPOOP. Also, if you don’t leave right then SHE is going to be late for school. And the doggy-wipes you thought might work, aren’t working at all. In fact, it’s the opposite of working and it probably made things worse.

So the only thing to do is have the 11yo put the dog-kennel in the garage. Except, the dog DOESN’T UNDERSTAND STINKY YOUR BUTT IS STINKY and is losing her ever-loving mind over being in the garage. Because, obviously, the pampered princess doesn’t BELONG in the garage.

At this point, you laugh and laugh on the inside (only the inside) about the conversation you just had the evening before with all the parents of BOTH softball teams and how adorable your dog is and how everyone loves your dog, blah blah blah POOPYBUTTDOG.

 

Ironic heavenly sunlight from last night
Ironic heavenly sunlight from last night

 

Now, you may or may not call your husband in a bit of a rage. It’s not your finest moment, but who else are you going to take it out on? You know that you have to go home and change your clothes and deal with this. You also know that you are now going to be super late for work. OH! And then there’s that thing of cleaning up really gross dog mess on the backside of said dog.

To be perfectly honest, the conversation doesn’t go well for you at all. And you’re thisclose to shoving a certain dog kennel into your car somehow and driving to a dog groomer type place so that they can deal with all of this for you. Until you realize that nothing is open. So it’s back to square one.

Or, you know, all up to you and your Poop Whisperer talents.

There’s no way you have time to give the dog a full bath. So you arm yourself with dog shampoo, old rags and a pitcher of water and head to backyard. Where there is a poopy dog frolicking in the grass. Because YES you let her run free outside after the garage/kennel debacle. But then you’re going to realize what an idiot you are because now you have to CATCH an overly excited, poopy butt dog.

Because of course.

Eventually the dog is caught. And you continue to traumatize her by trying to de-poopify her bum. You’re both going to feel a bit violated after this process (finally!) ends. And as you clean everything else off as she dries outside, you’re going to laugh at her pathetic whining at the screen door, because how dare you be inside while she is not.

Well, dog. Some of us need to sterilize all the things including ourselves.

We won’t even talk about the second shower you’ll need to take…or the botched order at Starbucks when all you want is a damn latte…or the smell that still hasn’t left your nose. But once again, you’re going to tell yourself and anyone who will listen: It’s a damn good things she’s cute.

a reminder of her royal (stinky) cuteness
a reminder of her royal (stinky) cuteness
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box of balls of brave

I love people. I love our differences. I love our similarities. I love learning from other people. I love laughing with people. I love it when other people touch my life and make me see something in a different way.

I love people.

But I wish there was a way for us to build a giant ball pit just like this. I wish we could create opportunities like this one that helps us to find our commonalities. To learn about some pretty fantastic things about people we may not have talked to under normal life circumstances. This video brings a lot of joy to my heart and tears to my eyes, because HOW AMAZING ARE PEOPLE. How amazing are YOU???

Pretty damn amazing. And I love you for it.

It’s a funny business, having a blog. You would think I would be good at sharing my words. Sharing my feelings. Sharing my opinions. But it’s amazing how many words get stuck in my own heart and brain because I’m too scared to share them. I’m scared of the response I’ll get. Or I’m scared of being judged. I don’t know. I honestly don’t have all the answers. But the more I think about it, blogging is a lot like sitting in an amazing box of balls and answering questions.

If we’re brave enough to do it.

I was brave recently. It was hard to write my story. The story of how I became a mom and the events surrounding that. But I wrote about it. And then I submitted it. And then I auditioned by reading it. And then I read it out loud to a room full of women I didn’t really know. And the more times I let those words fly, the more they didn’t scare me to share. Or it didn’t scare me as much. And then all of a sudden it’s the night of the show, and I sit on the stage of an empty theater and I take it all in. Yeah, I kinda sat there and cried for a little bit as I thought about what I was going to share and who I was going to share it to, but I took it all in. And then it wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be.

Somehow, standing on a stage in front of a few hundred people, I wasn’t nervous as I read my piece and owned my words.

I had invited all those people into my box of balls. And I was able to share with them a little story about myself. And you know what? There were a couple of people out there that had a similar story. We found our commonality.

Because we were brave enough to be vulnerable and say it out loud. We were brave enough to share.

I’m not always brave. But believe it or not, writing and blogging shows me that sometimes I am.

And every once in a while, I’m reminded just how big my brave is.

 

 

Nora, thank you for sharing your box of balls.

Sarah, thank you for reminding I have brave.

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The Most Randoms of all the Randoms

This week has been…trying. I’ve clocked in about a million hours at the office this week. My brain is too fried to do actual math, so a million hours may be a shifty estimation. But since I’m in charge here, that sentence gets to stay.

I just realized I didn’t really discuss last weekend in much detail. Day of prom…Listen to Your Mother…so much still to say that deserves a post all on its own. AND YET. I just don’t have the brain power to make it happen yet. Although, I feel like I should warn you that Mr. Prom Date is now a boyfriend type person to Beezus. So that happened.

Ramona’s last day of school is next Thursday. Not only is that ridiculously too early, it is obnoxiously too early. I have absolutely nothing planned for her because I’m super good at planning all the things. Maybe she’d like to get a summer job to keep herself entertained AND earn her keep. I’m just saying it’s an option.

madhatter

I went to a fundraising event with the ever adorable Stephanie last night. It was a Mad Men meets Mad Hatter theme benefiting the wonderful FairyTale Town. I’m not gonna lie, the theme alone makes me super happy. And I loved seeing how people dressed for the event. Plus? You should’ve tasted the chocolate and treats they had there. HOLY DELICIOUS, BATMAN.

tillamook

Speaking of delicious, if you’re in the Sacramento Area, Tillamook is bringing cheese to the people. And I kinda love that they are. But they best part? Since this month is National Hamburger Month (YUM) they are traveling around HIDING GOLDEN TICKETS FOR YOU TO FIND. It’s like Charlie and the Hamburger and Cheese Factory around local grocery stores. What I’m trying to tell you is that you could win free Tillamook for a year. FOR A YEAR. Do you know how happy that would make a person?? Do you know how happy that would make me? I would so totally steal your free cheese. Possibly.

Well, we’re headed into another busy weekend. Maybe not as busy as last weekend, but pretty damn close. Also, I really need a vacation. From all the things. I just want to sit on a beach (properly sunscreened, of course) and not move except to eat and drink. I really would like this to happen. Soon. Tomorrow would be nice.

paisleytoday

Have a great weekend everyone. Paisley loves you…even if she probably cannot see you.

xoxo

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A Very Special Listen to Your Mother Thank You

crest

Dear Ann Imig,

I’ve been trying to figure out a way to write about my Listen to Your Mother experience. But how do you recap an experience that changed you in ways you can’t explain? I’m still not sure I can. But then I realized, that at the heart of all that I’m feeling, I’m so grateful to all that you began a few short years ago. And so I thought I would try to write some sort of a thank you. And while this might be an odd way to write a thank you note, I’m not sure it could be written any other way. Because I’m not sure I could fit my thanks to you on a note card I bought at Target. I’m actually not sure that I can fit my thanks to you in a blog post. But heaven knows I’m going to try.

Thank you for this amazing platform to share a story I didn’t know I still needed to tell. Thank you for this opportunity to heal and grow. For this chance to love others and myself through the words that I wrote.

Thank you for entrusting your vision to the beautiful and talented Margaret and Nichole who produced and directed one hell of a show. For giving them this chance to love us, and for us to love them. (My goodness, they are amazing.) (No really, AMAZING.)

Thank you for believing that Sacramento was ready for such a fantastic experience. Everyone loved the show. Everyone was blown away. I wish you could’ve felt the love that filled that theater. Thank you for believing in all of us.

Thank you for giving us all this creative and fulfilling celebration of Motherhood.

Thank you THANK YOU for the Listen to Your Mother Show. My life is enriched because I experienced this. My heart has grown in ways I can’t explain. I have learned so much from every aspect of this show that you created. I’m amazed and in awe of all the lives touched. I’m so grateful I was able to show my husband and my daughters what this meant to me. I’m so grateful that I could share this with so many of my loved ones.

Thank you for bringing 15+ amazing people into my life that I can no longer live without. Not to blow any secrets, but we’re already planning for us all to live in close proximity (maybe something of a commune) where we can all live in harmony and ridiculous amounts of love. There are BIG plans in the works, but we’ve settled on a weekend getaway while we solidify our more “permanent” plans.

I could say “thank you” a million more times…to you, to Nichole & Margaret…to my cast mates and to my loved ones and it still wouldn’t be enough. Listen to Your Mother has changed me forever. It is magical and wonderful and amazing and phenomenal. I’m so proud to have been a part of it. I’m so blessed to have experienced the beauty and the joy that this show brings.

So thank you, Ann. For all of this. You started something that has changed us all.

Thank you.

Jill

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Neighborhood Watch Sometimes

I’ve been thinking about the girls in Ohio.

The story boggles the mind. It’s horrible and shocking and it’s hard to wrap your brain around it at all. I’m sad for them. My heart breaks for their families. I’m angry. Angry at the situation. Angry FOR them.

But, like much of the media and like many of you, I think about Charles Ramsey. The man that saved them all. He is their hero. Absolutely. But after all the media attention goes away, I wonder what he’ll be feeling. Glad he could help, of course. But I wonder if he’ll feel guilty for not helping sooner.

I hope not. But I know that I would.

I don’t know all of my neighbors. I see some of them out and about. The house to our left is holds some of our very best friends. We are friendly with our neighbors to the right and straight across. We have spoken to a couple other neighbors once or twice. But there are several families on our street that I’ve never met. And sure, I’ve seen the funny lady who is looking for her cat on a near daily basis, but I have no clue what her name is. (I do, however, know the name of her cat.)

I’m not implying that any of my neighbors are holding kidnapped women in their house. PLEASE KNOW THAT I’M NOT. I’m just saying, if they were, I wouldn’t know. I would be that person on the news saying, “I had no idea anything was going on. They seemed like normal people!”

How would I feel if something like this happened in my neighborhood? I’d feel shitty. I’d feel shitty and I’d feel so much guilt.

There isn’t a magic answer for any of this. I don’t expect one. I don’t have any desire to snoop on my neighbors. I’m no Mrs. Kravitz. And I certainly don’t want everyone knowing everything about me. It’s none of their business. I guess you could say there’s a slippery slope of being aware without being nosy. It’s coming to the realization that something like what happened in Ohio could happen to any of us in any neighborhood. Because we probably wouldn’t notice. We probably wouldn’t have any clue at all. Because how could we?

I don’t have any answers or pearls of wisdom. I’m just hashing this out as I think about it. This world can be so insane, sometimes you just have a take a few minutes to try and process a little bit of it. And then you just have to let your faith take over. Because making sense of it all is kinda impossible.

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Freddy Krueger, Bloody Mary…light as a feather, tired as a board…

It’s hard to not be mad at the kids that taught MY child about Freddy Krueger, CandyMan and Bloody Mary. Even though I totally know that it’s a rite of passage that we’ve all gone through it at some point or in some way. I get it! But then again, I didn’t have YouTube around when I was a kid. And a video of some chick trying Bloody Mary in the mirror probably would’ve scared the bejeebus out of me, too. Because watching some kid try it out at a slumber party is scary enough. And while I don’t remember keeping MY parents up most of the night because I was too scared to sleep, I probably should check into that before sounding like a total ass.

And yet, I’m probably too tired to care if I sound like a total ass because OH YEAH I WAS UP MOST THE NIGHT WITH A KID TOO SCARED TO SLEEP.

When she originally told me about the all-things-scary conversation she had with her classmates, she didn’t sound wigged out by it. But I won’t lie to you, I was super annoyed. I reminded her about the conversation that we have with her ALL THE TIME about being careful what she watches…and what other people want to show her. We talk about YouTube and the on-line world and how we can’t trust everyone! In fact, there are bad people who put things on the internet that are scary or inappropriate or just NOT SOMETHING THAT I WANT MY 11 YEAR OLD TO SEE. We talk about all this! So yeah…as annoyed as I was at her classmates, I was also frustrated with her. I don’t know how many times we’ve told her that once she sees something, she cannot erase it from her brain. Ever.

She apologized. We talked about it again. And again. But so many hours had passed between that conversation and getting ready for bed, I didn’t immediately put it all together.

It started out with not wanting to go to bed. (Normal.) But really feisty about NOT wanting to go to bed. (Not normal.) And then she asked if I would lie down with her for a bit. (Normal.) And then kinda freaked out when I went to go get in my own bed. (Not normal.)

(Although, I just now remembered that the reason I couldn’t find my flip-flops this morning is because I left them in her room. I probably won’t remember this when I get home tonight, so I’ll need one of you to remember this.) (Okay, back to the story.)

So yeah…I should’ve put two and two together. I should’ve. And then when she complained about not feeling well, I thought it was the hamburger that she ate for dinner. (Because, duh.) I was so ridiculously tired, I just told her to come sleep in my room so that I could keep an eye on her. We got a little bed set up for her. But then she climbed into bed with me because The Dude was still out in the front room working on something. Again, too tired to really care, we both fell asleep. Until she needed to go back to her little makeshift bed on the floor once The Dude was ready for bed.

And then she couldn’t sleep again.

It wasn’t until about two in the morning and she just happened to mention something about the mirror on my closet door that I got it. I finally understood that it had nothing to do with a tummy ache, it had everything to do with being too scared to sleep. I felt like an idiot. And then, like the wonderful and understanding mother that I am, I was pissed. PISSED.

I promise I didn’t yell at her…but she knew I wasn’t a happy camper.

I’m not sure if you remember, but I have quite the busy and insane and stressful week ahead of me. Not getting enough sleep is a recipe for disaster. This weekend is already going to be a bit emotional for me. (To put it mildly.) But a week of stress and chaos and on top of that NO SLEEP?

It’s just not something that we should test, is what I’m saying. None of us are qualified to handle a tragedy of that magnitude.

And yet there we were…the middle of the night with not much sleep for anyone.

We moved Ramona to sleep away from the offending mirror and closer to her dad. Something about that worked and we started to go to sleep. Until she started complaining that her dad was snoring. At that point, I wanted to stick some headphones in her ears and just let her watch TV all night until she fell asleep. But thankfully, and miraculously, she finally fell sleep. I have no idea what time it was because I didn’t dare look at the clock, but I will tell you that when my alarm clock went off this morning, I’m was certain I hadn’t been asleep for more than an 15 minutes. I also felt hungover. Which is a lovely way to start your morning.

And my kid? Well, she was just as chipper as could be. So chipper, in fact, that I may still have irrational anger about it while I try to figure out a way to mainline ALL THE CAFFEINE straight into my veins.

Deadlines and insane schedules be damned, we’ll see if I can just stay awake for the entirety of today. However, If you see me sobbing and rocking in a corner, please just buy me a Starbucks and send me on my way.

But if I start weeping with gratitude making us both feel uncomfortable, please do not hold it against me. I’m really hoping things will be better tomorrow. That or I’m just going to move in to my local Starbucks and call it good.