mrs. dalloway
it’s saturday morning and my plan, set into motion earlier last week, hits hyperdrive as i read over my list of “things to do before noon on saturday”, things that i must do to put the final touches on mikey’s hannah montanna birthday bash for thirty or so of his/our friends at my place.
these are things that can really be accomplished in just under an hour, and even though i have roughly till 8 pm to get them all done as no one shows up exactly at 8 for a party, i have this horrible need to get it all done before noon because that’s the time i have to pick up the cake, and i’d like to do this all in one drive rather than coming and going here and there and back again. but i have to pick the cake up last so it can then go immediately into my ‘fridge. have to be at cakelove at noon although i’m sure the cake isn’t going anywhere but when i told them i’d be there at noon, 12:01 becomes unacceptable and rudely late in my book.
mikey insists on helping me with preparations for his party although i’d be okay if he didn’t. and i tell him that that train is in motion and once you’re on the ride you can’t get off. and i expect him to work if he’s going to be spending the day with me. and so i:
get up a half hour late since i worked friday night which puts me at about 11:15 walking the dog. oh no. disastrous start to my morning.
apologize to the pooch but her walk will have to wait until after i pick up the cake and she wags her tail and all is good in her world.
stop by 1211 s st. to pick up one of my festive party buckets left there last summer at one of their weekly back yard barbeques. take five minutes to chat with clizzay.
barely slow the car to the complete stop so mikey can throw his bag in the back seat and hop in shot gun…because he lives uptown which is so not near where i need to be.
run to the bar, back down town, bark at some yahoo who is blocking the street so i can’t get to my parking space, drum my fingers impatiently as he oh so slowly backs away his van. contemplate killing him.
start loading up the car with beer and liquors we don’t sell but were free for the bar from our distributers so i don’t feel bad about taking them.
finally hit cake love where i arrive just at noon, pick up my cake and enjoy one or two (okay three) bites of free sample cake pieces put on out on the counter. make that four, as i bolt out the door. wait, is mikey with me? oh there he is.
back at the house, i berate mikey with words, much like the 25,000 dollar pyramid: kitchen! counters! dishwasher! wet wipes! disinfectant!
mikey: what are…things i will be using all during my saturday afternoon even though it’s my birthday?
Yay!!! we won!!!
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