Truckin' the Heap

So I forgot my phone today, which is the worst, because one of my friends is in labour as we speak, and another is picking me up from work today. Both scenarios require the use of my phone.

I had to ride down the elevator with the CEO of our company. While he is very nice (not un-nice, I should say), he's the most intimidating man I've ever met. "What do you do for me?" he boomed. I'm your Marketing Coordinator, please don't fire me.

I had the biggest anxiety attack of my life that got me sweating through my clothes and making a salad at 3 in the morning. 2 whole apples, handfuls of cashews and a whole carrot later, I'm thinking this diet thing isn't gonna work out for me. Then I ate a tub of hummos.

Finally the decorations are starting to come together, but the list of To-Do's outweigh the list of Did's. This is not good, since this weekend is filled with family and cleaning. No time for me. Never any time.

I'm so stressed that I don't even want to drink anymore. Crazy, right? I'm afraid that if the booze won't help me relax, I've run out of options. And that will be the death of me. So I won't even try. I'll take 20 Marlboro's for 200, Alex.

There are around thirty different people who have asked me for something in the last week. They take, I give, and I'm almost out of whatever it is they think makes me worth it.

My gut is wickedly hanging out of my pants, but I've given up the suck-in. I've graduated to layers.