My, how times have changed.
I have three weeks, people. THREE. And a hunnerd bucks. A HUNNERD. And they want the entire ward involved (400 people). And we can't practice on the stage, on account of our building doesn't have a stage. And my main lead is on a cruise~besides which, I haven't quite gotten around to asking her to be the main lead. And I'm going to South Carolina for a week, returning just in time for the performance. And it's in three weeks, people. THREE.
And did I mention I'm in charge? Just like I was in charge of teaching my missionary son to change his bed sheets every week. Just like I was in charge of my own diet, nutrition and exercise for the last 42 years. Just like I was in charge of teaching my boys to check for black heads in their ear canals.
Two words~EPIC FAIL.
But I'll think about that tomorrow, Scarlet. Today, I'm filling my gray matter with gibberish. Like this stuff~
I just finished reading The Count of Monte Cristo. Freakin' AWESOME! But sadly, I now consider the movie so dumbed down that I have to black out my teeth and say "ain't," to watch it.
I finally decorated my house for fall. Hard. But a batch of homemade caramel helped the medicine go down. Mary Poppins taught me that.
I bought two new pieces of antique furniture, because my every happiness depended upon them. I'm always on the look out for my every happiness. Often, I find it in diamonds, but not this time. Weird.
I Zumba'd this morning, and surprised everybody, by totally ROCKING the new routine, on account of there were some seriously smutty dance moves. And apparently, I was born to dance lewdly at the break of dawn.
I'm going to lunch with some dear friends who have missionary holes in their hearts. We've concluded about the only way to heal heart holes, is to fill them with sweet pork. A little pig plug, if you will.
And I think that's about it. Roadshow worries are suffocating underneath the nonsense. Now hopefully, angels will pick up where I left off, and it will be a brilliant success.
If not, well, let us consider this a missionary/roadshow skin infection, as a result of dirty sheets/three weeks and a hunnerd bucks worth of prep.
That'll teach 'em.