Surviving

Last night I was ever so happy to see my pillow. After going the whole day with only two hours of sleep, I would’ve probably of slept on a hard wooden floor if I had to. I am one of those people who need sleep and if I don’t get at least 8 hours, I get sick right away and a bad headache. I used to not be that way when I was in my 20s (party years) and would go out with my girlfriends after a long day at work and dance at the clubs til 3am and get up at 8am the next day. Ahhh, the good ‘ole days.

Today I feel more rested but I could handled another hour or two of sleeping, but I have a big day ahead and wanted an early start. We are throwing my daughter a baby shower this Sunday and I still have alot to put together. I’m a procrastinator to the fullest. I had meant to do good with this party and since I had a couple of months to get things done, I figured that it would be easy to get stuff for it a week at a time. This way, I wouldn’t feel rushed or the pain of the cost so much if it were hidden with my usual demands. Sounds like a perfect plan, right? Well, if I went with that plan, it just wouldn’t be me now, would it?

So, here I am now, the week before the shower and running to the store for stuff and wondering how I’m going to get a 100 duck soaps made with little blue and yellow ribbons tied around their cute neck. Why do I do this to myself????

To add to my self-induced mental breakdown, I’m freaking out at the cost adding up at the 50 stores we’ve been to. Maybe we can make our own raffle tickets for the 50/50 game, I say out loud. Jess gives me a glare as an answer to my thought. I could read her mind as if she were shouting at me over the store’s intercom: “WHY DID YOU PROCRASTINATE AGAIN, MOM?”

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