Tuesday, June 19, 2007

It's A Bailey's Night...

...That's the phrase I would utter to my co-worker/downstairs neighbor at the Waco School for Girls whenever my day was just too much to bear sober. We'd break out that delicious thrice distilled Irish whiskey and cream goodness, pour it into a glass of ice, and savor every drop until we no longer remembered what it was that drove us to drink in the first place.

Today, I had a conference call to talk about the memo about the cover to the TPS reports, and did I receive it, because my last TPS report didn't have a cover and should they send me another memo? No. That's okay. I don't need another memo. I got it: ADD COVER TO TPS REPORTS FROM NOW ON. Done.

Next, I have a conference call to discuss blah blah blah for the next issue of blah blah blah and how we can blah blah blah the blah blah.

After work I have a meeting with a client to go over a possible increase in my involvement with his business venture, a print publication as opposed to the online one for which I already write.

I was also going to pick up my pre-ordered Chrisette Michele CD from J&R Music World down by City Hall, but then I realized that at home I have to:

1. Do something about K & N's hair. They're looking like extras from The Color Purple these days, for real!

2. Wash some clothes. By hand. Because I haven't the money nor the time to walk the 20 million blocks to the nearest laundromat and pay $50 trillion to get the enchilada stains out of my pants. Don't ask.

3. Prepare meals for the next two weeks so that I don't have to rush home to feed these girls every night.

4. Take care of a few pending freelance assignments so I can get PAID.

5. Plan all the details for K's sleepover next month.

And last but not least, stop by the liquor store and pick up a bottle of Bailey's Irish creme.

Because it's only Tuesday, and it already looks like it's going to be that kind of week.

*smooches...hoping to be drunk off my ass by 11PM...liver be damned!*
Acércate que a lo mejor
no te das cuenta que mi amor
no es para siempre
porque hay noches que se apagan cuando duermes