Try to keep an open mind, but I just can’t sleep on this tonight. Stop this train, I want to get off and go home again. I can’t take the speed it’s moving in, I know I can’t, but, honestly, won’t someone stop this train?

 

I can’t tell you how good it feels to know that I have created a safe guard against my increasing anxiety as the date of my departure creeps towards me.

Just today I had a mini-meltdown in the shower as I went through my mental checklist of things to do before I leave.  And my list was mainly academic.  It had nothing to do with all the other shit outside of school I need to get ready/buy/organize/plan.  I was running through the next 15 days in my head and worrying how I was to get all of my assignments done (and on time!) prior to my flight out of the lovely US of A.

I’m not sure if I’ve told you all about my trip to Europe this summer, but please don’t worry- there is more information to come.

I just wanted to let you all know right now that I took my color coding and organization to the next level today.

In a slight attempt to further procrastinate writing my ECON paper, I opened up Microsoft Excel and began building myself an Assignment & Due Date Matrix.

Why, yes, I am aware of what a nerd I am.

You can make fun of me all you want, I don’t mind.  I’ll be sitting here, stress-free and on top of all of my assignments because of it.  AND, I’ll get to feel the satisfaction of checking something off of this very specific to-do list. It’s all pretty and perfect and it’s all mine.

The best part is that as soon as it was complete, I immediately felt better about everything. Usually, when I create a to-do list or write something in my planner, I can feel good that it’s written down and won’t be forgotten.

Now, I know that instead of dreaming about failing all three of my classes this summer, I’ll start having stress dreams about what to pack for my trip.

I fucking hate packing.

If you were going out of the country for three weeks and could only bring one fifty pound bag, one carry-on, and one personal item, what would you bring??? Also, do you have any packing strategies? I’m going to need all the help I can get.

Is it over yet? Can I open my eyes? Is this as hard as it gets? I s this what it feels like to really cry?

Every weekend Tam takes Chief to Petsmart.

And every weekend I hear about how much fun Chief has at Petsmart, and how everyone who sees him just falls in love with him, and how Chief makes all kinds of puppy friends. Basically everyone has a good fucking time and I miss out.

So you can bet your bottom dollar that when I saw that I had this past Saturday off from work, I was like GUESS WHAT FUCKERS! WE’RE GOING TO PETSMART!

But we didn’t get to go to Petsmart until after I went to my group meeting for my Finance class. BUT OH WAIT. While my group meeting had been set for 10:30am at the library at school, guess who was the only one there at 10:30am at the library at school. THIS GIRL. The first dude showed up at like 11:15am, the next one strolled in at 11:40am, and the last one finally came at, like, noon. WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT PART OF 10:30AM DID THEY NOT UNDERSTAND?! AND LET IT JUST BE KNOWN: I WAS NOT THE ONE WHO SET THE TIME FOR THE MEETING! MR. 11:40 DID!

JFEHE8HFEUWDPIHFUDISAFKJDSLHAI UGHHHHHHHH!!!

Anyway, that is neither here nor there.

I just counted to ten so we could calmly and rationally move on with the Petsmart story. Because I know you’re dying to know what happened.

When we pulled in the parking lot, I was still coming down from the trauma I had experienced when Tam sneak-attacked me by taking us through the carwash. Chief was cool as a cucumber through the whole ordeal but, as always, I was a basketcase. Despite the trauma, I can’t even tell you how excited I was. It was all, yes! I finally get to see Chiefy in his puppy play place!

Puppies!!

We were not inside for three minutes before he and Tam made a bee-line for the puppies to be adopted. There were two of the cutest twinsies I had ever seen! They were lab/Australian shepherd puppies and they were 12 weeks old and precious.  Chiefy knew them from his visit last week and they sniffed each other and wiggled through the cage that separated them.

Chiefy was very, very busy and, after saying hello to his puppy mates, he decided it was time to take a look at some toys and maybe pick out a bone or two.  We sniffed out the bones but they didn’t have the kind Tam likes to buy for him so then we went to investigate the section where they had those little booties they have for pets so their feet don’t get cold in the winter. Chief tried on one but it didn’t go so well. That was when we heard all kinds of commotion coming from the twin pups.

When we made our way back towards the puppies, I saw that one was being held and one was still stuck in the cage. I immediately knew what was happening. A husband and wife duo, along with their nine year old son, was adopting only one of these precious puppies.

ONLY ONE!!

The puppy in the cage was wailing and crying. The little boy knew that this puppy was facing some hard times, and he crawled in the cage to try to comfort him. Before I knew it, giant crocodile tears were cascading from my eyes and I couldn’t even pretend something was wrong with my contacts.  I quickly got Tam’s attention and told her we were either taking that extra puppy home or we needed to get the fuck out before I A) ripped that puppy from that woman’s arms and put it back in the cage with its sibling, or B) screamed at her and told her it was cruel of her to only be bringing one of them home.

We got the fuck out.

I was in the middle of a full-blown meltdown by the time we got in the car. I couldn’t stop crying even though I was embarrassed and desperately wanted to not be sobbing over the fact that a puppy didn’t get adopted that day. In fact, I cried the whole twenty minutes it took to get home.

As we pulled out of the parking lot, Tam said, “you can’t come to Petsmart anymore.”

I think that’s probably for the best.

When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head, you feel the world shake from the words that are said, and I’m callin’ all angels…

Last week I received a text that actually made me stop what I was doing and then run downstairs and ask Drew what the fuck it meant.

I was just about to leave for work and my phone buzzed. I assumed it was one of the girls at work texting me to ask me to pick some kind of food or beverage on my way into work. But ohhh, no. When I looked at my phone, I read the text and felt my breath catch.

Your dad is doing chemo this morning so shoot him a text if you get a chance.

Obviously, this is alarming.

1.)    Why the fuck didn’t I know Dad had cancer???

2.)    Which one of my loved ones’ phone numbers do I not already have stored in my phone?

3.)    WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T I KNOW DAD HAD CANCER?!

So, I read it over a couple times.

The text came from a phone number that wasn’t in my phonebook, nor was it one I recognized.

This fact was the only thing that kept me from flying into a full-blown meltdown. I mean, seriously,this felt way worse than the tailspin I flew into when I read on facebook that my stepbrother broke his spine. (True story! My family is soooo good at communicating bad news! Oh, and Brandon is fine- albeit he’ll be in pain and have back issues for the rest of his life- despite breaking his back, just in case you were worried.)

So, yeah, I was kinda freaking out.

I bolted down stairs and made Drew read it. I think he was only half dressed after just getting out of the shower. Although, now that I think about it, the closed door to the bathroom wouldn’t have stopped me in the least. Upon sharing this news with him, I made Drew text Dad while I tried to think of who would send me something like that.

I went through a mental checklist of people:  It couldn’t be my step-mom, I already have her number. And Brandon & Andrew- they’re both in my phone too. And for my Dad’s brothers and sisters, well, they would all have a different area code. So then my thoughts went to family friends- there was one that Drew and I agreed upon. The only thing about that was that particular family friend was stored in Drew’s phone, and the number didn’t match the one from the text message.

Finally, I texted Dad myself (as I was driving to work, trying not to freak the fuck out).

I didn’t know I was sick.

Wow, thanks for clearing that up, Dad!

Then he told me that I would know if he was in the hospital.

Good to know!

I’m glad he tried to make light of the situation. I seriously don’t know what I would have done if I would have gotten anything other than what I did receive. I mean, go ahead and call me an alarmist, but dude- that is NOT the way to find out your dad has cancer.

Besides, I should have known better. The rational part of me did know, all along, that Dad was totally fine and that this was simply a wrong number. But there’s always that tiny voice in my head that whispers all the horrible things you never even want to think about. And it never hurts to just make sure.

I never did find out whose dad was doing chemo that morning, nor did I find out from whom the text came.

For just a moment, in my head, I sent up a silent prayer for the family who was going through that, and I hoped that whoever that dad belongs to comes out of that fight on top.