Did I Mention That I'm Fucked?
Red's been out-of-commission with a particularly nasty case of the flu, so I've had plenty of time for introspection. While she lay on the couch moaning, drinking nasty-red-menthol-smelling-ass-tasting-heart-stopping-ball-crushing-flu-medicine-shit and watching 17 back-to-back episodes of Law and Order: The Early Years, I was staring at the wall in my office, railing silently against fate, fortune, and Pat Sajak, downloading every episode I could find of SNL Celebrity Jeopardy, and refusing to work. And here's why:
I don't know where to start!
I have a two day audit next week of EVERYTHING I have done for the last year. This auditor is going to dig through files, interview employees, read reports, wash behind my ears, and give me a really thorough prostate exam, without a reacharound. And this has me a little stressed out. You see, it's not like I haven't been doing my job for the last year, because I have. It's just that when it comes down to it, and you know someone has 16 hours to dig into every little detail, you just know they are going to find the "T" you didn't dot, the "Eyes" you didn't cross, and your secret stash of Forbidden Farm Girl Sex Acts (take that Google!).
So, now I'm scrambling around, trying to fit another year's worth of work into five days. How do I do it? Chex Mix, Ramen, Gin, Espresso, and a constant loop of that obnoxious song "He's Going the Distance" by Cake.
With any luck, I'll have a total breakdown and be committed before Monday.