At Least They're Committed

Ppththththtttttt! As I sashay down the hall, I try unsuccessfully to keep my hip from brushing the corner. I chuckle and glide up to the front desk and the gals include me in what they’re chatting about but I can’t remember what it is now. Lovely ladies. And I tell them I need chocolate, which is pretty assertive for me, and they quickly send me to “the source.” Mini Kit-Kats and York Peppermint Patties firmly in hand, I saunter back to my desk and attempt to write an article, but everything’s a bit funny to me and I add sessions such as Douchebaggery 101, So You Want to be a Wannabe, “No, I’m not Compensating,” and Dealing with your Inferiority/Superiority Complex. I quickly erase that and try again in earnest, only to decide it would be better to Tweet.

That and other benign projects occupy the rest of the afternoon and I float home and order a red dress because I want one and I’m thinking I’ll wear it the night of our ‘team building’ if it ever happens because I don’t get out much anymore (a lie) and I feel like being a little classic and retro. (Run-on!)

I have noooooo idea why I got totally anxious after lunch, but Iiiiiiiii did. And I took a Xanax.

And, guess what? All is well, all is well! (Think Kevin Bacon in Animal House.) And I have chocolate. And the world is beautiful. And I think I’ll sit on the front porch and watch the leaves flutter in the breeze. And remind me to maybe take half of one next time.