Next time this happens, I’ll know what to do.
I pulled out of the garage around 8:30 this morning, expecting a stressful day at the office. I was right — it was a rough day.
But I should have known just how stressful it would be based on the first song to come on the radio:
I should have gone back to bed. But I didn’t. I proceeded with my stressful day. And while I’m not sure I had 19 of them, I certainly came close to a bakers’ dozen nervous breakdowns. You know the sort of day I mean. Everybody wants/needs/must have something from me. Oy.
At about 7:15, I left the office, bringing a briefcase full of documents that I still need to read to prepare for tomorrow’s meetings, where I am anticipating Nervous Breakdowns 14-19. I just hope the Stones aren’t planning a sequel.
As I approached home and my garage, the Rolling Stones greeted me on the radio again:
Yeah, it was a bitch of a day.
Next time, I’m staying in the garage.
* * *
I may be AWOL in the next several weeks. Work is Cre-a-zayzy.
FiftyFourandAHalf 