Impatient

See that look in her eye there? It's saying, "Get me outta here! I know I'm a mess and you're only trying to help, but really, look, over there, I should be over there. Seriously. Get. Me. Out. Of. Here."

I've decided to use the impending Nor'easter as an excuse to call off from work on Friday. Not my boring-I'm-overqualified-for-this-job hotel job, but my one day a week office job where they hardly have enough work to keep me busy for eight hours anyway, so I can't feel guilty for not driving the thirty miles to get there in the middle of a snowstorm.

And besides, on Friday my husband has business to do. At least one phone interview, perhaps two. Big things, potentially. Though, very unknown things. We're not even sure what this job he's interviewing for is...or even where the job is.

Did someone say Arkansas?

At this point, I'm so tired that I'm absolutely ready for whatever comes our way. Whatever it takes to get me back home to my children and my writing.

I am that girl in the highchair begging to be let down as quick as possible - messy or not.