Elle Vampa

Today cannot end soon enough.

That’s the main thought occupying my mind at the moment.

At work, I think I’ve dropped everything there was to drop, from (thank goodness no fragile) parcels, to scissors, scanners, money, receipts and keys.

It’s a miracle I didn’t break anything – that includes my own neck, considering I also dropped myself twice and a half. The half is because I could JUST grab hold of something before I went down…

I have been yelled at by angry customers for no reason. I have received compliments from kind customers for no reason (I was just doing my job, but okay thanks I needed that!).

I’ve heard I have to work at a different location next week, one that is a whooping hour drive away from me (of which at least 25 minutes will most likely be devoted to being stuck in traffic). That store closes at 9pm instead of 8pm, so I won’t be back before 10pm at the least – yay NOT.

I have 4 workdays next week, all which start at 9am and end at 8-9pm. Reason? I am leaving for a murder mystery weekend and have puzzled my work and clients all into the days leading up to Friday.

And that brings me to The Weekend.

I was supposed to go with a friend, we booked months ago. And then… She burned out.

Nothing I can blame her for. But somehow I do.

Not for the burn out, but for calling it quits with only one week to go. If she’d cancelled earlier, I would have been able to cancel, too.

Now I have to go meet 44 complete strangers in a faraway mansion on my own.

I am not sure what is freaking me out more: that the weekend is focussed on singles trying to find a partner and I am imagining all kinds of weird guys hunting me down.

Or that I just emailed those 44 complete strangers to ask if anyone wants to carpool with me.

I want to cry. My heart is too introverted to deal with this beforehand-anxiety. I hate it, because I know once I get through next week, I’ll be fine.

And will most likely solve that fake murder.

But that is next week. And today is today.

And today cannot end soon enough.