i scream, you scream, we all scream...period

every few months, i have a day that makes me want to stab my eyes out with rolling pins made of ice that are covered in spikes fashioned from rusty nails.

today was one of those days.

yes, even though i'm sporting my new forever-vision contacts sprinkled with pixie dust.

stabbity-stab!

it's a friday, dearest reader. my day. friday.

but i walked in and the stress immediately started to flow like the river styx and i was up its creek without a paddle. well, to be mythologically correct, without charon, the ferryman.

i understand. i get it. customers get what they want and they have no shame in making changes up until the very last minute, on the brink of schedulecide (definition: the killing of schedules, if that wasn't obvious...which it was...but anyway).

they think a small change is no big deal...that the tweaking of a shade of blue is like the echoes of childhood laughter and hot chocolate on a cold winter morning.

this equation is completely true with the following changes:

echoes = screams

laughter = misery

hot chocolate = drain-o

on a cold winter morning = burning fatal holes in your esophagus

...but, ya know...i'm not bitter or anything. i'm just being honest.

now, i'm usually calm and collected, but when i started throwing my arms up in frustration, talking a million miles a minute to my boss and making my head spin like i was in the exorcist (don't i wish i really had that ability - what a hit i'd be at parties), i got the worst response possible.

"don't get involved. let me handle this."

...oh, ok.

cut to friday in a racecar constructed of knives, flying down the hardship highway.

next exit: NO-town.

but after i had my mid-morning cigarette, as nicotine wrapped its loving arms around me and rocked me while i mentally wept, i made a decision.

none of it is that important.

these things will get done.

i will stay neurotically organized and everything will be ok.

c'est la vie.

then my boss started asking me questions about what was going on and i was, clearly, thrown right back into the mix.

...and with that, friday reclaimed her day and all was well again.

...and by "well" i mean "tolerable."