I’m drunk. Another night at home alone drinking cheap wine that I happen to like.
I woke up this morning at 8am. Just so you know, I’m usually at work by 8am every day and especially with what’s going on with the topsy turvy markets and the seizure of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac by the government, I’ve got a lot of work to do! But no, I WOKE UP at 8am. I woke up in a sweat, peeked at my alarm clock, and jumped out of bed. What had happened? Did I sleep through my alarm? Had I accidentally turned it off instead of hitting the snooze button. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I should have been at work!
Despite my stress, there shouldn’t have been cause for concern. The work day was pretty slow. I even got a chance to pickup my repaired Rolex watch. I hadn’t picked it up before because I wasn’t ready to throw down $700 for the repair. The official Rolex repair servicer had called several weeks prior to Burning Man. My watch was ready for pickup. I coughed into the phone, “Ummmm, I’m about to go on vacation. Is it ok to pick it up in like a month or so?”
They didn’t seem bothered by it. So I picked it up today to the tune of $700 on my credit card. One positive: it turns out Rolexes really do appreciate. I think my mom bought my watch for $2,000 and the servicer guy told me that my same watch is now going for at least $4,000. Way to go, Mom. She buys low, I sell high! But seriously, I love my watch so this will be something I have for a lifetime. The servicer also reassured me that I could wear it all the time, that it was waterproof, and not to worry about wearing it in the shower every day. “Look, I want to make sure that what happened with the watch falling on my bathroom tile and breaking doesn’t happen again. Essentially, I don’t want to take this damn watch off. Let’s just pretend it’s tattoo’d to my wrist. Is it ok if I wear it all the time and in and out of showers, etc.” He confirmed.
And now to the random shit before I turn in tonight. I’ve got babies on the mind. I can’t help it. There are unborn babies, newborn babies, toddlers on the mind. They’re everywhere on Facebook, on blogs, in conversations. Everywhere I turn, there are cute little newbies and I just want to scream. Maybe you’ve heard this from me, “I just want to send my babies to private school!” I really do. I know exactly where to send my kids for daycare. I know exactly where I want them to go to elementary school (depends on whether a girl or boy), then Lowell or St. Ignatius for high school, then Stanford or Princeton or Brown. Cal is just too big. I fear for my child getting lost in the crowd. I think I’d be such a great mom, but who knows if it will happen. I’ve also resigned myself to being happy on my own and possibly never having children.
The goal is simply to find my life partner, my soul mate. That is it. I am on a mission. I’m reading this book “Around the World in 80 Dates” about this woman who quits her fabulous job as the head of PR for Lonely Planet and tries to find her soul mate. I haven’t finished, but apparently she finds him at Burning Man! Well, I’ve been going to Burning Man for seven fucking years and I never found him there. Anywho, she sends an email out to all her friends to help wrangle dates for her.
While my audience for my blog is now small, limited, and exclusive, I am going to go ahead and put it out there…as my unborn babies are calling out to me…if you think you know of a spectacular guy who would meet my criteria (cute, tall, worldly, academic, talkative, outgoing, friendly, artsy, passionate, funny, and open to someone who practices her religion on a weekly basis), please do send them my way. My future grandchildren will thank you.