This week is the culmination of the gigantic project that has devoured my life for the last six months. Corporate Behemoth? You are a cruel and cunning mistress. Which is a fancy-pants way of saying “high-maintenance beyotch.”
The good news is that success is within our reach and it will all come together and be marvelous. The not-so-good news is that I am exhausted. The really, really good news is that on Saturday, my mom and I are flying to Florida, where we will sit on the beach for seven days.
Yes. Sitting. On the beach. There will be fruity drinks with paper umbrellas. And trashy novels. And lots of seafood. And no rental car. And lots of walking on the sand and not giving myself carpal tunnel by working at a computer 37 hours a day.
Did I mention the beach?
I am so ready. So, so ready. I’m hoping that it will be an excellent way to zone out, recharge and get some perspective on recent events. And you know I’m not talking about the health care town halls or Michael Jackson’s unfortunate demise.
I still have the double-bagged bunny carcass swinging next to my wind chimes. And today, after work? I discovered yet another dead varmint in the backyard. I didn’t get close enough to see what flavor of varmint, and Foxie Doxie is under close supervision. I should have just womaned up, grabbed my trowel and more Target bags and addressed the situation.
But really? Really, after getting home at 7, knowing full well that I would log back on after eating my nightly peanut butter, tomato and onion sandwich? Really, when I found yet another carcass, it was all I could do not to raise my hands up to the heavens and scream, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!”
Four days til vacation. I’m assuming I won’t be called upon to dispose of any bodies while on holiday.