T-Minus 24 Hours & Counting

Tomorrow night, Husband has a VERY! IMPORTANT! SHOW! locally of which I have some VERY! SERIOUS! RESPONSIBILITIES! that I'm not really looking forward to.
And I have a gazillion things to finish tonight before I return to silly monkey job tomorrow. Instead of doing those things, I'm writing. Because it makes me feel better. And I've had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day (like Alexander).
In tune with my procrastination, I will list all of the things I still need to do. I like lists, they make me feel in control. In fact, every Saturday morning, I sit down and make a list of all of the productive things I'm going to do this weekend. Never mind that most of the time, the list is lost, thrown away, folded into a million pieces, used as scrap for Olivia or hidden in the couch cushions.

Here we go:
-Clean the filthy bathroom (total emphasis on "filthy")
-Vacuum half the floor (because I already did one half)
-Mop kitchen
-Finish laundry (one load in the dryer, 4 more to go!)
-Figure out where the pee/fish smell is coming from in Chicken's room (she swears she didn't have an accident. Hrmm.)
-Pack Chicken's clothes (for she will be staying with the Grammy. Don't forget sunscreen.)
-Make a list of things to pack for Chicken
-Iron my vast selection of outfits for tomorrow night (there are 5 different "looks" in the running)
-Fluff pillows (because I like to)

That entire list adds up to a gazillion in my head, ok?

In the spirit of creative writing, I'll tell you a little bit about today. But only a little because you know who's a-lurkin' around here.
I performed stage 2 of a big argument with Husband about nothing, really (we're over it now, in case you were worried). Then I went to work and realized that I continue to surround myself by stupid, useless men and wondered why I stay at a job that I usually find highly unfulfilled. While in a heated debate with myself over that very subject, I remembered that I have dream hours, excellent pay, generous benefits, freedom and flexibility at that silly monkey job and talked myself down the window sill. (It's a good thing, too, I was really going to jump. Except I work in a 1 story building. But I could have scratched myself on the rose bush below.) I proceeded home only to enter into a bigger mess than when I left. So I stormed out to meet my nail appointment. Then I bought two new pairs of shoes. And now I'm happy.

So I shall go do one of those a-gazillion things I keep talking about.

PS-I know I didn't do Wunnerful Word Wednesday but I'm going to, I promise.