Normal
At my doctor's appointment yesterday, it was basically determined that I am probably fine. Blood was drawn, just in case, to check for whatever they check for - and the nurse called me later in the day to tell me that all my blood was normal. So I can only assume that all of that yucky nonsense had to do with a) stress at work - I am currently SWAMPED down there... like to the point that I've been bringing some stuff HOME to do. And b) stress at home from trying to prepare for my trip, get the HOUSE prepared for the house/dog-sitting friend, all while also working on WORK at home every night. It's making me batshit crazy and I guess my guts were like, "Uh, hello? Jazz it the fuck down, lady."
I wish I could. I am currently getting ready to do one more work-related thing from home, then throw on some clothes, drive downtown and work, and then after that I need to buy toilet paper, finish cleaning the kitchen, dining room, living room, and bathroom, remake the bed in the guest room, because I had to wash the sheets in there because I could not remember if anyone had slept in there since the last time I washed them, do 3 more loads of laundry, pack my suitcase AND compose a list of instructions for dog/fish/plant-care.
I need an assistant. Well, no. Those guys are paid. I need an INTERN.
Xxo, Crazy Phoebe
Oh. And PS - as I write this, my husband is in Goteborg, Sweden... I could not be more jealous of anywhere he is going on this tour. Goteborg is the town my dad's side of the family came from - and Ryan always jokes that I do LOOK pretty much like everyone in Sweden. I told him to bring me back a flag or something. Something from my people. My Volvo-loving, fika-enjoying people.
I wish I could. I am currently getting ready to do one more work-related thing from home, then throw on some clothes, drive downtown and work, and then after that I need to buy toilet paper, finish cleaning the kitchen, dining room, living room, and bathroom, remake the bed in the guest room, because I had to wash the sheets in there because I could not remember if anyone had slept in there since the last time I washed them, do 3 more loads of laundry, pack my suitcase AND compose a list of instructions for dog/fish/plant-care.
I need an assistant. Well, no. Those guys are paid. I need an INTERN.
Xxo, Crazy Phoebe
Oh. And PS - as I write this, my husband is in Goteborg, Sweden... I could not be more jealous of anywhere he is going on this tour. Goteborg is the town my dad's side of the family came from - and Ryan always jokes that I do LOOK pretty much like everyone in Sweden. I told him to bring me back a flag or something. Something from my people. My Volvo-loving, fika-enjoying people.
Comments