High School. Musical.

I was going to write about what I’ve been doing the last few days.
I was going to write about what happens when I leave schedule for even one afternoon (two words: impulse buy).
I was going to tell you about my hilarious recess incident which left me branded as a Jesus-lover and contemplating a visit to the pope.

But my interweb has gone far, far away…seemingly never to return. I have to type out in word, and then walk on over to the business center and hop on their fancy networking.

Oh, and today. Today was just too much for me to handle. I should have known it would be when things began spiraling downhill at around 7:53am. That was the point that I spilled coffee down my shirt. My white shirt.

I’m just so annoyed with myself, because occasionally I forget that because I work in a building in which roughly 63 other women work, I am destined to relive high school every day of my life. I forget that if I tell someone something, and they promise not to tell, they will tell everyone in the school shortly after you leave them. I don’t necessarily blame them, because when I told her, I was taking that risk. I’m more mad at myself for starting this whole chain in motion. I just feel like I can’t trust her anymore, and it’s really a yucky feeling.

After all this went down, I found myself sending this email:

"When the computers switched over to Microsoft outlook, did it erase my entire iTunes music collection, even though I put it on a hard drive that was no where near the computer being backed up?
Yes. Yes it did.

Was I only able to retain half of it?
Yes. Only half.

Did I lose everything I’ve bought or downloaded in the past two years?
Yes. Yes I did.

Am I a little pissed?
Yes. Yes I am."

But all in all, I’m going to be okay. I’ve put on my most comfortablest of clothes, and I remembered that a favoritest movie of mine (Serenity) is on the television tonight. I’m alarmed at how acutely I can decipher just how much they edited out for tv.

So I’m going to relax, take a shower, drink a glass-or perhaps a bottle- of wine, and just chill this evening. Or, I may end up aggression-cleaning my entire apartment. I’ve just got to resist the urge to go to my craft table…don’t scrapbook angry, which is what I’m tempted to do. I’ve got a whole “broken trust” layout bubbling around my brain.