The Countdown Starts, Now.

I wake up this morning, and I almost made the mistake of thinking it was Saturday, but no. It is Friday.

7 am on a Friday morning and 8 more hours of work, plus 1 hour of getting ready and another 1 hour of lunch (boredom). In case you are slow on this Friday morning or may not work in this lovely corporate world, that is 10 more hours. TEN.

I get to work, and usually Friday's are laid back, but my boss has an appointment at 9 this morning with a client. So he is here, blaring his music and distracting me from my morning blog. How dare he. Just kidding, but seriously.

So I am still counting down from this 10 hour process, right now I am at 8 hours and 20 minutes. I can do it. I usually am not this antsy at work, or in the morning, but this weekend has potential, unlike many others I have had in the past.

Yesterday at work, someone, (and you will probably be able to guess who), decided it would be of the utmost intelligence and respect to drop six boxes off of my things next to my car.

Did he come in to my place of business to make me aware of the garage sale practically going on next to my SUV in our parking lot? No.

Instead, I am assuming (because the mid morning dew had set in) about an hour after having his unloading party, one of my morning clients walks in and asks "Um, do you have an ex boyfriend you pissed off?" And I laughed a little, and asked, "Why?". He replies, "Well someone dropped off some stuff outside next to your car."

I walk outside, to find just that. While I am trying to fit these boxes into my car, the one at the base of the pile is excruciatingly heavy. Just then, my boss pulls up. Early again, who knows why. He sees me, even though I am leaning into my car hoping that I will blend in. He comes over, I explain the situation. He has to help me lift the final box into my car.

That is how my yesterday started. I did not write about it yesterday for fear that I may not have been this nice about it.

After explaining this, is much less detail, to a very good friend of mine, I close my story with "I need to get out of here."
He replies, "Out of work, or out of town?"
I say, "Both."
He then progresses to plan a road trip, invites me, and we are going to get the hell outta dodge this weekend. Turning off phones (at least I am), no Facebook, nothing. I just want to get away.

My best friend, one of two, is getting married Saturday, and then "We are hauling ass and not looking back, until Monday."

That is why I continue to count down, 7 hours and 54 minutes, until the weekend.
That is when my fun, and release begins.
That is when I can let go and just be free from dumb things of drama.

7 hours and 52 minutes until then.