Today was an interesting day. So interesting that my car is still (prayerfully) parked in a parking space in Downtown Tampa. I only minimally freaked out, after I couldn’t find my keys. For a back story, I went to a coffee shop in downtown Tampa to work and kill time in between meetings. After leaving and going to my car I realized that my keys were not in my purse. No big deal. I walk back into the coffee shop thinking that I must’ve simply left them on the table. Nope. No such luck. Not on the table. Not by the cash register. Not in my bag which I emptied out in a corner very calmly. Not anywhere on the street. Possibly in the pocket of the homeless guy who asks for change everyday only for me to tell him my stock excuse “I never have cash.”Anyways long story short, my keys weren’t anywhere to be found, Ashley showed up out of some weird stroke of luck, and the vehicle that we’ve been having outfitted for my new business just so happened to be ready for pickup. So I took her car and she ubered over to pick the other one up.
But, back to the weird day or more appropriately, the day that I started saying that I can’t do it all. Without my car which contains all of my work data I could only work on following up on things that I needed to and getting a much needed filling.
Protip: when you decide that you want to be a real live girl and get your nails done with acrylic, you are signing up for upkeep. With what time? IDK either you will 1: Pull it out of your butt. OR 2: Use the new time you’ve been given since you can’t hold onto your car keys like a proper adult.
After the filling I went to the grocery store to try my new favorite thing that my family hates: Buy precooked food to doctor up at home. Once home with food doctored up and placed in the oven DJ informed me that he didn’t have time to watch the food because he had to take a shower. In my head I saw a very clear image of Homer Simpson choking Bart
or at the very least the mother from Everybody Hates Chris slapping the hell out of him, but I didn’t.
Honestly I’m too busy and too tired to entertain certain things. My idiotic teenager making stupid comments about time and food that he is going to eat? Nah. Not a battle I wanted to win today.
Of course, he ate before AB and I could get into the kitchen and of course, he didn’t like the chicken. Since I let he and AB in on my little Greenwise Publix Precooked food doctoring up secret they’ve complained about the taste of the food. Neither of them realize that for months at least once a week they’ve been eating this food with zero complaints. Nor do they realize just how fucking hard it is to write, sell books, run the shops, do all of my admin work, build a new business, run the house, cook, spend hours a week working for my BNI chapter, and and and. But when I finally said the thing that I have been thinking for months, that I can’t do it all and still cook, AB tells me that she doesn’t want me to totally stop cooking. She likes my cooking and can’t I at least do it once a week. To which I do not respond with the first thing that pops in to my head which is, How Sway?