This week has just been one of those weeks. A time when I feel like I can't put on the breaks, where I have no control over slowing down my life. Losing a weekend can do that to you, I suppose. On Monday I flew back from Chicago, hoping to have the afternoon to catch up on things. Instead I worked from home, with Mob Wives providing just enough craptastic distraction in the background.
That night I forced myself to go to yoga, something I've been slipping up on lately. I needed it. I also needed the Whole Foods run to stock up on healthy, fresh food. I don't know who actually "loses weight because of all the travel," but let's be honest, that's not real life. Real life is going to the airport Chili's and shoveling breakfast tacos into your mouth to congratulate yourself for not suffocating to death in the one and a half hour long cab ride to O'Hare like you thought you might. Seriously, who buys Black Ice air fresheners anyway? More importantly, who names one that? Black ice is that hidden, slippery patch of evilness that causes you to fall and break your back. And, now I know, it smells equally as bad.
Tuesday I was welcomed back to the office with more work, stress, and finally some details about my assignment in Berlin. By details, I mean, apparently it's still going to happen. (I've been kept out of the loop on everything, something this Type A planner has not appreciated.) That night I went to Pilates and then The BFF, our friend Laurel, and I watched a train wreck.
The train wreck, in this case, was the DVR'd third episode of The Bachelorette. I was going to write a post about it from the CGS perspective, but it's too hard. It makes me want to cry. All I will say is that it not only ruined any (faux) desire I had to be on the show, it compounded my already guarded attitude toward guys. Having had three morons in the past year tell me they "loved" me and "wanted to marry me," since then I've become wary about anyone's authentic interest. Thanks, Bentley, for mind f*cking an entire country of women. You're a real winner. I hope you get fat and go bald.
After another busy day at work, last night I spent the evening catching up with one of my dearest friends Nicki, the one who I met on my European backpacking adventure. (I wish I could pack her in my suitcase this time around too.) It had been forever since we'd hung out - to the point neither of us could even remember the last time - and we both commiserated that time was flying by too fast.
And that's how it's going to be until I leave. Life racing by with a speed I'm not sure I can handle. But I'll have to soak it up - all 97 degrees of it today - because it's all I've got.
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