Anywhoozle – in my little world of Care Bear Land where we ONLY fart gumdrops and hop around on fluffy white clouds after and IF life is properly planned out ahead of time – bucketloads of shit-covered clouds have shown up.
Like little shit Smurfs with beady red eyes are literally invading my land of unicorns and Care Bear stares to dump blue buckets of shit ON MY PARADE that I call today.
Here – let me explain further.
NEXT weekend on my “personal life” calendar you will see in pretty orange letters the words “annual bike ride” – next to a sticker that reads, “out of town” next to another sticker that says “fun”.
If they made stickers that said, “You have the wrong weekend tagged so pull your head out of your ass and stop screaming obscenities about the cruelty of life and get to planning – ASAP!” - um…that’s what I’d stick there today knowing what I know now.
My co-worker goes with me on this ride and I kid you not – I was walking to the kitchen with her about an hour ago and I just half-assed said, “So what are the plans and timeframes for next weekend?”
She said, “You mean for tomorrow?”
NO. F*ckstick. I mean NEXT weekend – just like my planner says.
Noooo – it is TOMORROW.
I stopped – mid-walk, middle of the hallway – and yelled a little too loudly, “You’re not being serious right now are you? Well, are you?”
I can literally feel my blood pressure spiking. I’m nearly running back to my office so I can get my hands on my planner to prove to her she has the wrong date.
Holy American cowpies! 2.5 days OUT OF TOWN – TOMORROW and I just found out roughly 24 hours before we leave????
Perhaps this is the appropriate time to finally confess that I am diagnosed with massive anxiety and stress migraines and that basically I’m afraid of myself. Yes?
Oh and newsflash – let’s all remember I have TWO KIDS who need sitters!!! Oh and we just happen to be watching the neighbor’s dog. Oh and our other neighbor died and we have her wake to attend. Oh and the minute we return, I have a board meeting for which I thought I had a WEEK to prepare for!
Satan’s balls (he may indeed be behind this fiasco) – my literal head is spinning. I would love to cry but there’s too much to do. Too many lists to make.
Here’s the best part…I incorrectly THOUGHT someone was taking an actual vehicle to the cabin where we are staying. Nope – everyone is riding their motorcycles.
Well, well – apparently my new outlook on life which includes giving way less care to how I look will come in handier than I thought. I have to pack everything I need for 2.5 days in a motorcycle. I’ve done one day before (and nearly lost my marbles) but 2.5 days. And we plan to go to a festival, eat out twice, go on boat rides, go swimming and go biking.
Oh my mother heifer. I cannot deal.
So far I have called Rambo 6 times and each time he answers and says, “Hey babe, what do you need?” and each time I say, “Oh nothing. I’m just freaking out some more. I’m a planner, remember? I don’t know if I can pull this off. I think I feel hives sprouting near my vagina and I chewed my left arm off already. Can I call you again in ½ hour?”
I’ll just never understand him. I called him the minute I found out about this
Really? I mean mother-f*cking really? It is sooooo not okay, you douchewagon!!!
Then I ate 2 Kit Kats and that helped.
This weekend – this sudden change of plans – is a test. I’m fairly certain God was bored toying with shit-spreading Smurfs or He lost a bet with Satan or He needed something more interesting to do so He decided to plop this little goody in my lap.
Can’t you see Him just chuckling, saying, “Let’s see if she has really changed. Let’s see if she really can enjoy the moment and let go of physical insecurities. Let’s see if she can get through this without hives or migraines. Let’s see if she can survive this.
Hey Angel Gabriel – get me a glass of wine and some popcorn so I can sit and watch Draz lose her mind, puke rainbows and have diarrhea…all at once.”
Fine, God. Just fine. We’ll see.
I never back down from a challenge. Especially when it involved motorcycles and God.
That’s a combination you’re just better off not messing with, you know?
That being said…if you’d like to throw in an extra prayer or two for me for this weekend – I’ll take ‘em. Like as many as you got.
And thanks. No worries.
I totally got this. At least the puking rainbows and vagina hives parts anyway.