Oh my god you guys, how is it a) already Friday and b) already almost 3:30? Seriously! WHERE DID THE TIME GO?
Tomorrow is bout day!! The winners of the Dewey contests have been picked, we’ve met our minimum fundraising goals with a week of fundraising and book driving to go, and the All-Stars are gonna get Maine all over the Armory floor! I’ve been running around like the proverbial headless chicken-lady (Chicken Lady loves life!) Between work (good, but a little annoying today. I know how to do my job. That’s why you hired me, because you didn’t know how to do my job. Remember? Okay then.) and head bouncering and charity committeeing and trying to learn to skate and also sleeping? NO TIME FOR LIFE. Granted, a lot of that is life, but I want life that nets me megacash and also laziness. I’m totally gift-horse-mouth-looking here, guys, I know. But I am a little Bilboed here. Not enough butter, too much bread.
Anyway! Tomorrow is bout day! Last night I skated at Anacostia with a bunch of the fresh meat hopefuls, Camilla the Hun, and Helen Killah. I didn’t get to skate as much as I had intended, because a) my GPS decided to take me to some random dead end road instead of the park and b) the skate pavilion is apparently unstaffed until Memorial Day, which also means that the overhead lights remain turned off until then. So I got about an hour and 15 minutes of skating in. I managed to perfect my t-stops with my left foot and my single knee falls on my left knee (and by perfect, I mean I could do 10 acceptable ones in a row without fucking up. T-stops still need work, but at least I can not fuck ’em up 10 times in a row.) I was gonna switch to trying them with my right foot/knee, but it was getting dark and I was having trouble seeing. Next skating excursion: right foot/knee, and rock star falls (both knees.) Camilla gave me lots of pointers on my stance, too, which is great. I’m still falling, but mostly not on my ass. (Although not everything is wine and roses there, either–I seem to be going down SIDEWAYS a lot. Right hip, meet ground.) I make a HILARIOUS face when I do plow stops though. It’s sort of a constipated, angry, SHUT UP I AM CONCENTRATING ON STOPPING MY SKATES WITH MY MIND face. Ohh yeah. It’s hot.
I’m pretty sure there were things I wanted to talk about (besides the annoyance of the phrase “eligible: not referred” as far as job applications go, which will just grump me out too much) but I can’t remember what they are. So I’m gonna hit publish and then stare at the clock until it is time for funnel cake and cotton candy (there’s a carnival across the street from my building, y’all.)