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Keep Calm And…

Keep Calm Carry On

Last night I received a text with this lovely rendition of the KCCO meme. This is my week’s motto appropriately, because I shall be toes in the water and feet in the sand come Saturday. I find myself getting a bit anxious, but a good anxious. Now comes the daunting task of trying to pack everything I will need into: a backpack, a duffel bag purse, and a small suitcase. I was advised it would be best to avoid bag checking, thus these three bags will have to do. Of course, being the president of over-packers anonymous, I have a feeling that one of two things is going to occur:

1. I will procrastinate wrangling this chore until Thursday night after cleaning out a bottle of wine. This will result in tipsy me throwing a couple of random and undesirable clothing articles and accessories in to my limited totes and later bitching at myself when I attempt to put together a remotely decent outfit once I arrive. I will achieve a lightly packed status but somehow still end up with all the amenities I need… and a few that I don’t.

………………. or, Read the rest of this entry

Drinking Your Dinner is Challenging

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Friday night is always pretty magical for us 8 to 5ers. It is finally time to unwind with no fear of the alarm come Saturday morning. Unfortunately, my body doesn’t comprehend this. I found myself greeting the day at a precise 8:05 am. Sigh. I tried to combat the wakefulness, smothering my head back in to my fortress of pillows. Nope, you are wide awake Becca. I eventually succumbed. The only possible option now was to go down to the coffee shop, fuel up with a latte (that I apparently didn’t even need) and start this Saturday off with what other than a blog post.

I have two distinct memories from my Friday. One includes my best friend mistaking a shot cup, that I had adopted as my ash tray, for her beloved Jager. This was almost immediately after the above picture. See that grin gleaming on the left? That would soon turn in to the most unsettling grimace as the floor became painted in the aftermath. She was a good sport about it. She is a trooper. It’s why I keep her around.

The rest of the night consisted of many more Michelob Ultras, a few more shots that didn’t taste like tar, and conversations about men, the mechanics of winking and Tampa.  (more…)

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