In other words, I am DONE.
|You've got mulch!|
My job involved preventing people from parking in the parking lot we had rented, no small feat considering there was a huge Tae Kwon Do exhibition going on at the high school and approximately gazillion games and scrimmages taking place on the playing fields. I spent a lot of time explaining to distraught parents that their precious soccer players would be just fine if they dropped them off at this end of the parking lot and allowed them to walk ALL THE WAY across the tarmac to reach their teammates.
I was relieved of my duties because I was starting to get sarcastic. Who knew?
So I brought the girls home to play for a couple of hours, but we are due back down there soon to take our shift handing out grilled cheese sandwiches and replenishing granola bars and grapes at the snack station. What can I say? It's a glamorous life, this existence of mine. And tomorrow, I might just get to sleep in until 7.
What more could a middle-aged gal with sleep-deprivation PTSD ever want?