Freak Out x 3

I’m not one to freak out. I generally take a pretty relaxed approach to issues with the mindset that if no one is hemorrhaging blood/dying/a freight train is headed toward me/Adam Brody is standing next to me/or Simply Desserts is out of Orange Pumpkin Cake, there really isn’t any point to getting too worked up. It’s just a waste of precious energy. But then there are some days where I am in unique form and find myself with great opportunities to get worked up. Yesterday was one of those days.

Freak Out 1:


When I got home late Sunday night I thought it a good idea to just reconfirm when my homeowners would be returning from Africa. October 4. Hmmm, October……4th. Oh cuss… I glanced up around the house and thought to myself, “Well, there is some work to be done here.” Thus began mad dash to clean a three story house like a crazy person.


And because it was 1:00 am, I gave myself 30 minutes to do as much as humanly possible as fast as humanly possible and hope to the good heavens that I’d wake up early enough in the morning to finish up. 5 hours later when my alarm went off I sprung (gently rolled) out of bed and proceeded to clean more like a crazy person. Thus began sprint sweat-induced cleaning frenzy. Wash sheets, scrub bathroom, take out trash, vacuum, do dishes, pack up my things, take my things down three flights of stairs (don’t even ask me how many trips). I knew enough to wait to shower until cleaning was done but the 3 flights of stairs perpetuated the hot sweaty mess look. With just minutes to spare before I had to leave for work, the house was sparkling.

Freak Out 2: 


In the midst of my frantic cleaning, I took 15 seconds to step on the scale. Guys, I have packed on the L-Bs. Thanks to the EXCESSIVE amount of birthdays/parties, the lack of exercise, increased stress and the significant amounts of wheat and dairy into my system, my clothes are QUITE snug. Maybe that’s an over share but maybe it’s honest. So, yesterday I kicked my bag o’ cookies-a-day habit; I opted for rice cake and peanut butter with an apple instead of delicious Grandma’s Vanilla Crème Sandwich cookies. Baby steps.

Freak Out 3:


Those few minutes I had to spare before running off to work rapidly disappeared when I got into my car and discovered I was sans cell phone. “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere, let me dig around,” I thought. No luck. Let me go inside and call it. No luck. Let me dig around some more in the same places I just dug just in case I missed it. No luck. Let me run inside and call my phone from every room in the house to see if I can find it. No luck. Let me tear apart everything in my car ONE MORE TIME. No luck. Eventually I threw in the towel and headed off to work (outrageously late now). I pep talked myself all the way to work as to why I really didn’t need my cell phone and that I have other ways of being connect to people and thinking who really calls anyway? By the time lunch came around I had forgotten about it but then enlisted a friend to call me repeatedly until I (or someone else who was in possession of my phone) answered. Finally, at the bottom of my toiletry bag I found said phone, safe and sound. Freak out concluded.

Let's not do this again.