This week has been rough. Not so much work wise, but more mental health wise. Monday morning I woke up knowing my patience level was going to be tested. My spidey sense was going off, and I had to keep telling myself, “It’s going to be okay. You can get through this.” It was a lie of course. Things were not okay, because my bank account still didn’t have a million dollars in it, my deadlines did not disappear and no fairy godmother appeared with Merlot flavored ice cream. However, I still got out of bed, got dressed and went to work with a mental promise to calm down:
But today none of that matters! Today is the most glorious of days!
I plan on leaving work with so little guilt and absolutely zero f#$ks.
I will be saying goodbye to this work week with epic cattiness, bitch slapping it on my way to the weekend:
And I’ll be like this the whole time:
The hubster and I are going out to dinner. Unfortunately for him, he will not be getting lucky afterwards, because I plan on drowing in a giant glass of margarita. I won’t die though because, margaritas give life on Fridays:
Also, as of this morning my pantry of f#cks is barren:
Weekend, I’ve got you in my sights, and like a romance book hero, I will have you, make you love me, and rock your world:
This weekend will be filled with long bouts of reading for actual pleasure, intermittent naps and the occasional (hahahaha, yeah right) glass of wine. Oh yeah, weekend you’re going to be treated so right:
For those of you who are negative Nancy’s, yes I know the weekend will not last forever. To you I say BE GONE!!! No one wants your pestilence here:
Monday will come soon enough, and I won’t be sorry for a single moment of my weekend bliss: