WARNING: Expletives in this Post

I almost shit myself today.

No joke. I could totally feel my intestines tightening and pressurizing. I worried about the fact that I have on khaki pants, cotton undies and I would not have time to go home and change before my shift (look how close those two words are in their spelling) at Lottery Yarn. I worried about the fact that my car already smells b/c of the water leaking from my A/C on to the carpet and the inhuman humidity and temperatures not allowing it to dry without mildew. The panic was about to come out of my ass and I was trying my best to hold it in.

The person, and I use that term loosely, I am dealing with where the event is to be held tried to tell me it could not start until 6pm. My invites say 5pm. My catering contract says 5pm and my property contract says I have it from 4pm to midnight. This is not my first issue with 'her' and it's 5 days before the event.

Tension builds, there were words exchanged, heated at that, and in swept my angel, Toni (cue gleaming lights and angelic 'aaaaaahhhhhhh'). He is the co-owner of the caterers I am using, Jeffrey Miller Catering. He flew in and made it all ok. We are back on track for a 5pm start.

I still have to work tonight but I just might make it though the day now without killing anyone or shitting myself.

Oh, and I am out of Prozac.