...but I'm in cement up to my knees.
I have not had a good day. I have had a busy and stressful couple of weeks. I am well aware of the fact that my ass is going to burn out VERY VERY soon (in fact kind of already has--more on that later)if I don't do anything about it and I can do precisely dick about it. I was going to go to dance, but then my previously sore neck started feeling sore again, so I said, no biggie, I'll go get my hair cut instead.
And then later I had what I so impolitely call a walking corpse in my office. Seeing someone who's almost dead or seriously ill or seriously in pain is absolutely worse than getting a call that they've died. SO i had to deal with that for like a half hour, or 5 minutes--I don't really know, time just became irrelevant at that point. At this point I was seriously wishing my neck didn't fucking hurt so I could go to dance class because that's about the only thing that will work that kind of stress and emotional turmoil out of me.
But at least, I was finally going to get the haircut I had been growing my hair out for for 1.5 years and had drawn a sketch of a year ago. *I* kept track of a sketch on a random piece of paper for a YEAR. I even got a tip about a hair place that might be able to handle the crazy ass things I wanted (from a cute blonde girl with a turquoise streak in her hair, no less)
I went to go to the appointment and could NOT find it. Worse yet, I had my phone in my pocket and the jeans were too tight when I was sitting down for me to pull the phone out and I was on windy ass roads. I should have known to have my phone out because I know i tend to get lost in that area and I know getting lost in that area means windy ass roads. The stylist called me about 20 mins after my appt and asked me to re-schedule because it was so late so, me being the softspoken, passive sweetheart I am, said "yeah, whatever" very rudely and then hung up the phone. *SHIT*
I called back like 45 secs later and she didn't pick up, so I apologized to the answering machine, and I'm sure I sound like a fucking neurotic mess. So, I am leaving the ball in her park to call to re-schedule since I was such a whore about such a minor thing.
So then I did what any mature 31 year old would do when missing a haircut, cried--no, wailed--no, screamed with tears in my eyes all the way home. Honestly I didn't know I was capable of such noise. Over a haircut. I wonder if I'll call the stylist a cuntrag for "taking away my haircut" on the off chance that she happens to call to re-schedule.
Yeah I smell that. It smells like burnout. It doesn't seem to be going away. Off to bed, to wake up at 6, roll out and head back in to work. That'll cure anything! Right?!
...Oh my god, I sound like a psycho.
