I do not really enjoy the feeling of being busy. Well, I like being busy, but only to a degree. I like to work, and I work a lot, both at 'work' and at things outside of work. I also like to be able to stop at any point and time, take a minute to read a blog, eat a sweet, or text a friend, and then continue on with my work. One of the most painful and terrifying feelings is being busy to the point where I feel like I do not have one second to spare. Too bad that's how my weekend is shaping up.
Friday and Saturday Husband and I are participating in our village garage sale. Our house and 50+ others will be overtaken by bargain hunters, antiquers, and people who are just plain cheap. This would not normally make me so busy, except for the fact that we just decided to partake in the sale a few days ago. Husband doesn't get home from work at a decent hour on Wednesdays or Thursdays, so that leaves me to ready our garage and junk for the sale.
At least I have the evenings to relax, right? Wrong. Saturday night I am heading up an event/dinner/coffee house type thing for a conference that is taking place this weekend. Food, drinks, decorations, speakers, etc. for 500. Yikes! 99% of the prep work is done, but that last 1% is driving me crazy. My garage sale customers better not get in the way of me putting quotes into picture frames! Look out people I'm frazzled!
Friday night is the one bright spot, and I would be able to look forward to it more if I knew I wouldn't be worrying about Saturday! Husband, two friends, and I are heading to an outdoor concert to see Feist. It's my 25 birthday. There will be cheese, wine, and chocolate covered strawberries. Seeing that last sentence just made me realize that, YES, I will be able to relax this weekend, at least for a few hours.
And with the thousands (HA!) of dollars the sale will rake in, I won't need to work anymore anyways, right?