My cat and I: Losing all our hair
When I was younger, I was always perplexed by how grouchy my dad would sometimes be when he came home from work. I mean, you're done for the day! Time to play outside, chat with Mom, relax. Friday afternoon at 5:45 p.m. when I was lying on the floor of my office unable to move for fear of, yes, the "Elizabeth special" (aka. vomit) I realized two things:
A. Why I have more gray hair than the average twenty-something.
B. Why Dad collapsed in his recliner all those years.
I would like to have a referendum to establish different levels of urgency. I propose: "I really need this done today," "I really need this done now," "If you do not finish in four nano-seconds an infamous terrorist network will blow up your mother's house, your mother's mother's house, and pull every hair from your cat's body and then force you to eat her while she's still alive - but with no hair."
Vote Nov. 8, folks.
Working in an agency has taught me lots of things and among them is the valuable lesson I was reminded of Friday: There is no way in God's good and holy name you can give everyone your best work and undivided attention. As much as I hate to admit it, sharing is a sorry excuse for second-rate work.
Face it, if you have two (or ten) projects you are working on, not one of them can recieve your full attention unless you neglect the others. We can try, but will always fall short (or vomit trying in my case.) We are forced to balance our time and give our best-possible-under-the- circumstances foot forward.
I for one hate that.
It's the same with friends and family, too. Lately I've realized I'm one of the luckiest kids around. I have a large network of people who are concerned about my well-being and daily misadvetures, and when it comes down to it, about three of them at any given time may have a clue what's going on in the life of E. It's exhausting to love and be loved.
If this is my greatest problem though, I repeat, I am one of the luckiest kids alive. This next weekend is "The Jack", in the competitive barbecue world, it's the pinnacle of your grilling season, and that's just to be invited. I will not get another weekend, yet again; and while dealing with last minute logistics and media pitching this week, I will undboutedly lie on the floor in my office counting all 13 of my ceiling tiles over and over again.
I miss the focus and energy that I didn't realize I had (and was capable of) as a child and in college. For all of you still there, regardless of how stressed you are, realize you are still enjoying the most precious moments of your life - paying your rent does not rely on you getting an "A" on that paper.
And to those of you who still love me even though I haven't called you back in two weeks (to one month...if it's been longer than that, I probably don't like you anymore) come out to The Jack in Lynchburg this weekend. I'll get you some press perks and maybe we'll have an opportunity to catch up.
A. Why I have more gray hair than the average twenty-something.
B. Why Dad collapsed in his recliner all those years.
I would like to have a referendum to establish different levels of urgency. I propose: "I really need this done today," "I really need this done now," "If you do not finish in four nano-seconds an infamous terrorist network will blow up your mother's house, your mother's mother's house, and pull every hair from your cat's body and then force you to eat her while she's still alive - but with no hair."
Vote Nov. 8, folks.
Working in an agency has taught me lots of things and among them is the valuable lesson I was reminded of Friday: There is no way in God's good and holy name you can give everyone your best work and undivided attention. As much as I hate to admit it, sharing is a sorry excuse for second-rate work.
Face it, if you have two (or ten) projects you are working on, not one of them can recieve your full attention unless you neglect the others. We can try, but will always fall short (or vomit trying in my case.) We are forced to balance our time and give our best-possible-under-the- circumstances foot forward.
I for one hate that.
It's the same with friends and family, too. Lately I've realized I'm one of the luckiest kids around. I have a large network of people who are concerned about my well-being and daily misadvetures, and when it comes down to it, about three of them at any given time may have a clue what's going on in the life of E. It's exhausting to love and be loved.
If this is my greatest problem though, I repeat, I am one of the luckiest kids alive. This next weekend is "The Jack", in the competitive barbecue world, it's the pinnacle of your grilling season, and that's just to be invited. I will not get another weekend, yet again; and while dealing with last minute logistics and media pitching this week, I will undboutedly lie on the floor in my office counting all 13 of my ceiling tiles over and over again.
I miss the focus and energy that I didn't realize I had (and was capable of) as a child and in college. For all of you still there, regardless of how stressed you are, realize you are still enjoying the most precious moments of your life - paying your rent does not rely on you getting an "A" on that paper.
And to those of you who still love me even though I haven't called you back in two weeks (to one month...if it's been longer than that, I probably don't like you anymore) come out to The Jack in Lynchburg this weekend. I'll get you some press perks and maybe we'll have an opportunity to catch up.
posted by the big E at
5:50 PM
3 Comments:
Seriously? I'll trade you. I'll come to Lynchburg if you come to my blues thing...
sorry you are so busy!!
but i hear ya and i feel ya on the friends thing, too. i thought it would be easier once we were all out of school..sigh. lol.
we NEED to plan a dinner sometime soon..all us girls.. and our boys if so desired. or both...2 seperate occasions! either way is fine with me.
i miss my girls!
i hope you're doing great and no matter what, we all still love you and think about you, even if we aren't always in sight!!
Oh, gosh... now I'm kinda worried. I don't know. Has it been a month since we've talked? It must be close. (But then, I hadn't called either, so maybe I'm in the clear - and it's only those you didn't call BACK for a month that are in trouble.)
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