I woke up this morning with Fergie singing in my head. Yes, I am a big girl now and big girls don’t cry, but I am not like a child missing their blanket. I’m a grown woman sad that sleep was interrupted by inane lyrics. Maybe I should find some Center… Clarity… Peace… Serenity.
When this song first came out, I had to explain the concept of a blankie to Sparky. He had no idea that kids bonded with objects – stuffed animals, yes, but blankets were odd to him. This continued on to Michael Jackson’s kid named Blanket. I couldn’t really explain that one.
I had a blanket and I still mourn its loss, but my grandma knitted me an Afghan that is similar in feel. She loves me that way. Did I mention she did this for me when I was 24 because I was still whining about it.
I have a week and a day left before I leave for SF for six weeks. I’m in that state where I know I have a lot to do, but no real idea. It hasn’t quite hit me yet. And I have to be Hamburg this week and Dresden this weekend. And the airport on Tuesday.
I won’t be there though. I simply cannot get everything I know I need to do done. And I’m in Hamburg starting tomorrow.
I’m leaving for six weeks and I have to be away from my kitties this week. All I can say is a certain someone at my office is being a rat bastard. My boundaries have been crossed. What I don’t understand is how people can be in positions of power and not think strategically. Lose one day here and gain five free days there. Push my ass in a corner I don’t want to be in and, buddy, watch out. Your life gets infinitely harder.
So to that end, I’m going to go listen to some Timbaland and get that damn song out of my head. Or I’ll go serenade a sleeping Sparky. Its better to pass these things on, isn’t it?