I was walking up the stairs with my incredibly, dorky, after-school-special-warning-heavy backpack when I tripped and slow motion started falling. I was doing the awkward windmill, grab at anything, going to save this move (and winning!), when my backpack started sliding up my back and over my head. The added weight pushed the battle in favor of gravity, and I found myself pinned to the stairs. The way I landed resulted in my having an epic five minute struggle to get out form under the pack.
I had a rough week of cancellations with clients, and went in to "I need these hours else I can't ever graduate, and I have to get out of here!!" panic mode. My fifth cancellation prompted a flurry of calling referrals and packing my schedule to the point of bursting. Want the last hour of the day? Sure! The butt crack of morning? Awesome! Five in a row? Of course! Over compensation at it's finest!
This morning I was in the midst of an existential crisis fueled by regret, Ebola, insecurity, and indigestion. I filled in two of my closest friends. The one in Texas sent me the sweetest, most affirming text extolling my virtues, and the other said, "pft, it's fine, you'll be fine." Both approaches were needed, helpful, and affirming!
I have a co-worker, "Thistle," who hates me. A few months ago she mentioned to another co-worker, "Princess Consuela," that she didn't send me a fundraiser item because she didn't think I could afford it. Now, I've never spoken with Thistle about my finances. Ever. So that was weird. Today, Princess Consuela told Thistle that we all owed a certain (incredibly reasonable) amount of money for something.
Thistle: "That's really expensive."
Princess Consuela: "Not really, considering."
Thistle: "Well, I mean, how is Anna going to afford it?
Princess Consuela: "What world do you live in."
So apparently I just exude poverty. Maybe I should brush my hair more.
If you know me at all, you know I have an unhealthy love of Dazbog. I LOVE IT. There is one right by my work and I am a frequent patron. Like Stan from Cheers frequent. Yesterday, Princess Consuela texted me, "I have to tell you something. You're not going to be happy. Our Dazbog has broken away from the franchise and rebranded." I didn't take it well.
As a side note, another friend at work when Princess Consuela mentioned to her that Dazbog was changing said, "oh man, how are you going to tell Anna?"
So this morning I walked in, and sure enough it's not a Dazbog anymore. I threw up my hands and yelled, "you guys! What is happening?!?" All four baristas proceeded to tell me all the reasons it was good, they gave me free coffee, and told me I was doing really well.
I grumpily, and skeptically, took my coffee and drove to work.
"Locally roasted small batch beans. Nice. Nice touch. Holy crap. This is good. Damnit. I mean really good."
*All pictures via pinterest.