Woulda Coulda Shoulda

… dear Otto, dear Otto… a hole in my de-esk, dear Otto, a hole.

Dear Otto. Dearest, darling Otto. He’s the one putting holes in my desk, by the way.

Okay, I probably need to back this up.

When I first started freelancing, I marveled at the wonder of being able to make a job out of late nights spent hunched over my laptop in the middle of my bed. This is GENIUS, I thought! Who needs an office?

Eventually, though, I moved operations down to a desk in our family room, lest I end up a chiropractor’s dream. And as time went on, I dreamed of having an actual office; a room where I could concentrate on work and close a door between the children and myself when necessary. Surely THAT would be perfect.

Then we moved to this house, and I got my office. And I shared it with Otto, and I liked that, because I am rather fond of that guy. But Otto is tidy and I am perpetually disorganized and eventually he moved out of our office in a snit. (more…)

So we have something of an ongoing saga happening here, and it’s one of those things where I’m never quite sure how much to say and how much to just bite down VERY FIRMLY on my tongue, but suffice it to say that I was participating in a test drive program for some SUPERCOOL and VERY SHINY large objects upon which we rely for things like clean clothes and food free of botulism, and instead of being supremely awesome it has, instead, been a carnival of How Many Things Can Go Wrong? How About One More? No, How About Two More? Hey, You Didn’t Want These To Work, Did You? Etc. And although I still believe that it will all be okay in the end (I also believe in unicorns, by the way), it has involved MANY deliveries and service calls and hours upon hours of People In My House.

(Moral of the story: You get what you pay for. Remember that before accepting things which are free, is all I’m saying.) (more…)

The good news is that last night’s soiree was a fun, fun time and the food was AMAZING. No, I’m not being braggy—I didn’t cook. I didn’t do anything, actually. This event was a work thing and so it was completely planned out by People Who Are Not Me and also possibly magical wood elves who sprinkled fairy dust everywhere, because I can guarantee you that if I had been the one planning it, we would’ve had a bottle of wine and a bowl of pretzels and someone would’ve been in tears at the end. Probably me. But no, because this was a Fancy To Do, a catering team swooped in and set up an entire kitchen IN MY GARAGE and promptly cooked up enough food for an army of people who are hoping to die with clogged arteries and smiles on their faces.

The bad news is that I am so ill I’m just a whiny, blubbery mess. You know how sometimes you can’t be sick? Like, say, when you’re throwing a big party at your house? And so you take a bunch of cold medicine and put on your happy face and actually have a great time, but then everyone leaves and you fall all to pieces and can’t sleep because you feel so miserable? (more…)