I am trying not to hyperventilate over all of the end-of-the-year celebrations. Is it just me? I feel like every other email I receive is an invitation to a kid’s party or a solicitation to help volunteer at another thing-a-ma-jig at school. My desk is littered with camp registration paperwork. Today I spent 45 minutes on the phone trying to resolve something for M’s birthday, for which I have yet to schedule a party because everyone’s schedules are so crazy. The 45 minutes wasn’t really as bad as it sounds, because a good 20 minutes was just spent on hold with the speaker phone on. Which was pretty good except for that at about moment 19 I decided I couldn’t possibly wait anymore and I went to the bathroom with the music singing from the phone on the counter, only to have a service representative finally pick up the phone while I was. . . in the middle of something. I feel really close to that customer service lady, even though she wasn’t actually ever able to help me. Sigh. Never mind.
I’m grouchy, can you tell? Which I totally shouldn’t be, because I’m surrounded by celebratory occasions and it’s been raining so much that I haven’t had to water all those pretty new plants that I planted, and my house is exceptionally tidy because my parents just visited. But I am. Grouchy. So I’m going to stop kvetching, take a medicinal volume of 60% cocoa chocolate chips, and put myself to bed early.
