I don't even remember the date of my last post, that's how long ago it was. And what makes it even worse is that The Boyfriend has posted twice since then! I feel as though he cheated a little because he posted something like two times in three days. But still! No girlfriend should let the posts be up for close to (if not more than) a week before she reads them either. For that, I'm apologetic, but also am blaming that stupid Big Girl Job.
Speaking of the Big Girl Job... A couple of weeks ago, I had to take a last minute trip to San Francisco that really tested how well I am capable of functioning on little to no sleep. I'm sure it sounds all glamorous that I got to go all the way to California, but traveling for work is harder than working in the office. I did get to see a little bit of the city, but mostly in the dark. If you happen to be planning a trip there, I can certainly direct you to San Fran's finest FedEx Kinkos stores. Their employees aren't all that helpful at first, but if you call them in excess of 20 times in a three hour period, visit more than two of their locations and spend the wee hours of the morning with their employees, they start to realize that you mean business and that they aren't going to be able to get away with shoddy workmanship. Just be sure to bring your own personal security. Of all the services that they provide, a bodyguard isn't one of them.
About a third of the way in to the flight from Phoenix to Orlando, one of the flight attendants came over the loud speaker and said "Ladies and gentleman. If there is a doctor or nurse on board, please press your call button." If you know me at all, you know that at the sound of this I was on red alert. It turns out that a lady sitting a few rows in front of me was, for lack of a better term, blitzed. Evidently, she couldn't talk and when she tried, she would just end up spitting. Being the expert lip-reader that I am, I was able to make out a flight attendant saying that the lady had taken too much medication and had too much to drink. She wasn't bad enough off for us to need to make an emergency landing (which probably would've made this post 10 times more exciting), but she did have paramedics waiting for her once we got to the gate. With the assistance of a couple of them, she walked off the plane and made it safely to a wheelchair just inside the airport and that was the last I saw of her.
I'm still trying to get back into the groove of normal life. While my suitcase is unpacked and put away, my apartment still looks as though an F5 tornado went through it. I finally managed to clean my desk up yesterday because I simply could not function with the mess any longer. It's Tuesday and I haven't written my letter to my brother yet this week. And my attempts at working outs are a joke.
I'm taking any suggestions that anyone might have for how to turn things around quickly. I'm also accepting applications for live-in maids.
Speaking of the Big Girl Job... A couple of weeks ago, I had to take a last minute trip to San Francisco that really tested how well I am capable of functioning on little to no sleep. I'm sure it sounds all glamorous that I got to go all the way to California, but traveling for work is harder than working in the office. I did get to see a little bit of the city, but mostly in the dark. If you happen to be planning a trip there, I can certainly direct you to San Fran's finest FedEx Kinkos stores. Their employees aren't all that helpful at first, but if you call them in excess of 20 times in a three hour period, visit more than two of their locations and spend the wee hours of the morning with their employees, they start to realize that you mean business and that they aren't going to be able to get away with shoddy workmanship. Just be sure to bring your own personal security. Of all the services that they provide, a bodyguard isn't one of them.
About a third of the way in to the flight from Phoenix to Orlando, one of the flight attendants came over the loud speaker and said "Ladies and gentleman. If there is a doctor or nurse on board, please press your call button." If you know me at all, you know that at the sound of this I was on red alert. It turns out that a lady sitting a few rows in front of me was, for lack of a better term, blitzed. Evidently, she couldn't talk and when she tried, she would just end up spitting. Being the expert lip-reader that I am, I was able to make out a flight attendant saying that the lady had taken too much medication and had too much to drink. She wasn't bad enough off for us to need to make an emergency landing (which probably would've made this post 10 times more exciting), but she did have paramedics waiting for her once we got to the gate. With the assistance of a couple of them, she walked off the plane and made it safely to a wheelchair just inside the airport and that was the last I saw of her.
I'm still trying to get back into the groove of normal life. While my suitcase is unpacked and put away, my apartment still looks as though an F5 tornado went through it. I finally managed to clean my desk up yesterday because I simply could not function with the mess any longer. It's Tuesday and I haven't written my letter to my brother yet this week. And my attempts at working outs are a joke.
I'm taking any suggestions that anyone might have for how to turn things around quickly. I'm also accepting applications for live-in maids.
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