The election is tomorrow! Do you know this? Americans, let's all remember to go vote.
I will be drinking heavily tomorrow night, and not just because I usually drink heavily on Tuesday nights. I am so keyed up over this. It's a wonder I can think about anything else.
I have to leave work early on Wednesday, because I have my first haircut in Phoenix scheduled for five thirty. This sort-of implies that I have to get to work early as well. I mentioned this to Verde this evening...
Verde: How are you going to accomplish that?
mary: Well, see, you are just going to stay here even if you do have to leave at five am for work. If you leave at five am, that should disrupt me just enough so that I get out of bed in time to be early for work. And if you don't have to work, you're in charge of forcing me to wake up.
Verde: But that will make you angry.
Some boys learn so quickly. I explained that part of being a grown-up is waking up early even when it makes me angry, and that I would just have to get over it. I think he's still a little afraid, but he's agreed to do it.
This evening, I suddenly got popular and busy. Each phone rang like eighteen million times and I had to work on my NaNoWriMo novel (2,565 words written) and I was working on personalizing Paul's page for him (go look! I did good. I like to write HTML. Seriously, click on the link, and then leave him a comment about how seemlessly I added all those things. You might also mention that I am smart and nice and pretty, or you can just put that in my comments. I might need nice things like that to read tomorrow.... Oh and while I'm bragging about my blogger template editing skills, I also helped Kate with some stuff this afternoon, but she did most of the work herself. Paul let me have all the coding fun and only participated by answering a thousand little questions.)
And Mom needed help with her computer and there were three chat windows going and that poor boy just sat quietly on the floor waiting for me to finish with my evening and it was almost too much there for a minute with all the phones and the chatting and the novel and the coding and the boy... I held it all together though.
What else? EEEEEE The election is tomorrow. EEEEEE. It is very unlikely that any portions of my novel will make it onto the internet at this time. Pratt's is there though, if you're feeling like looking at what happens when you set out to write 50,000 words in a month.
I'm a little keyed up at the moment. I might just explode before this is all over.
Oh shit! I almost forgot the biggest thing that actually happened today! I was driving home from work. Drive, drive, drive. SLAM ON THE BREAKS! FUCK! OH SHIT! Remember something NotBoyAnymore told me about getting out of the way instead of causing accidents and veer off toward the shoulder. Do not hit the car in front of me.
Wait? Did that car behind me hit me? Y'all, seriously, I still am not sure if she hit me or not. Because my car was coming to a crashing halt and there was music and I think the noise of a collision is probably not something I can hear anyway and it was dark and I have no depth perception.
Then traffic started moving. On the highway. After dark. On the highway. There's a lot of pressure to keep moving on the highway here. I sat a second. I kept staring in the mirror. The look on her face CLEARLY said "SHIT! I don't think there's damage. Is there damage? Did she notice?"
So, we kept moving. Here's my thought process at this point... "What do I do? Do I stop? Will she stop? I don't even know if I just got into a car accident. How can you not know? What's wrong with me? Oh dear. What do I do now? I know! I call a grown-up!"
Pratt's reaction was approximately "I've had a driver's license for six months and I live two thousand miles away. I cannot help you." When I explained about needing a grown-up's help, he answered by reminding me that yesterday he'd called me just to make "spooky" noises into the phone, and so perhaps he should not have been equated with "adult" in my mind.
Eventually the car passed me. I noted the license plate to Pratt. Then I called JV to ask him what to do (that was Pratt's suggestion). I had to leave a message, and I'm sure the message taker was suitably confused. "I think I was in an accident, but I can't stop to see because I am on the highway and it is dark. I'm really not sure if she hit me. Can you write down this license plate number for me?"
JV got back to me with very helpful suggestions (he found a grown-up to ask) about taking the car to a "greasemonkey" during daylight to see if there is damage. In the light of my garage, it appears that her bumper slid almost neatly over mine and the car stopped before it actually hit my car.
So, maybe I was in a car wreck this evening. I'm not sure yet.
The election is tomorrow! I have smoked a thousand cigarettes about it this evening! I might never sleep again! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE if you're an American, you've GOT TO GO VOTE FOR KERRY ON TUESDAY. It's SOOOOOO important.
About One Year Ago: "I checked for blood on the carpet and there wasn't any, so all my bones were at least in my body and that's good enough to sleep and worry about it in the morning."
