20ish going on 80

Weeks one and two of Operation: Full Time Employment are already in the history books and I’m celebrating the fact that as FT I once again qualify for full, paid holidays. It was pre-buddy days that I last enjoyed the sweet taste of 8 hours of holiday pay. So, can I get a woot woot for having the 4th on the third week of work?!? Plus, it’s going to be 83 and we’re chillin and the lake with friends. Work is good. It is stimulating, it is challenging, it is exciting and it is crazy busy. I could probably put in 80 hours a week around this joint and not be caught up. Hubby is going to kill me when I start to bring my lap top home to work at night.

What seemed like a downright brilliant idea of taking 15 credits during the 8 week summer quarter is seeming a bit like misplaced brilliance. Apparently each class thinks I need to devote 12-15 hours a week…so, that means I’m supposed to work, do the books and put in 40 hours a week doing school. My counter offer is, how about 2-3 hours a day, total? Here’s hoping that I can pass Stats, Managerial Accounting, and MIS without being committed. Plus, I think I have a few side clients that need their work completed. Moonlight…again, it seemed like a great idea at the time. I suppose shag carpet once seemed like a good idea too….

So, two things happened yesterday to make me feel like I’m 20-something going on 80. I’m not saying 20-something because I’m ashamed of my age, mostly it’s just because I can no longer remember my age. You see, once you try to remember employee idea numbers, 4 pages of account codes, 150 different 3 letter acronyms, 4 social security numbers, 50 different short-cut key strokes per program, and what day it is, it no longer seems important to remember (nor does it seem humanly possible) your exact age. SO I don’t. I know what year I was born, and I think I know what year it is, between the two, I’ve probably got enough information to get by.
Anyhow, I was taking a shower last night around 9:50 when I realized that I keep forgetting to put new body wash in the shower and was officially out, out. So, I opened the curtain, reached across to the vanity, opened the door and got me a new bottle. One leg out to minimize drippage. As I swing my outside leg back in, the inside leg start sliding toward the drain. I’m about as coordinated as a 1 legged monkey, so I slip. I end up, ass in the air, head in the tub, leg in the curtain, water in the face in the bottom of the shower. Now, I’m not only oddly positioned but trying to figure out how to gracefully get my naked self back to vertical. Luckily, I manage this feat before hubby opens the shower curtain. As I cough from the impact he’s laughing at me…at least he didn’t see me w/ my leg in the curtain. Yes, I’m 20-something and I need some kind of shower handle, apparently.

Then, yesterday as I pried my eyes open with paper clips around 2pm, I decided to pour a large mug of 80% creamer, 20% coffee from the front office coffee pot, the one with caffeine. At 11:45 last night, unable to sleep, that seemed like a pretty stupid decision. Apparently now I’m the old person who can’t drink caffeine in the afternoon. Re-freaking-diculous.