No, it is not Tuesday

That is what I said at a little after 8 a.m. this morning, whilst dragging all of my crap into the study room I use at our Library, Diary. 

I was majorly confused, but finally accepted that they were right and I was twenty-four hours early for work.

I worked for a bit over five hours, catching up on all the bits that are left undone each week, including creating eight templates for client calling cards that they can use as adjunct documents when filling out job applications at businesses around town (yeah, some place still do the whole paper and pen thing) and for job fairs and for just a generalized feeling of self-worth for having the darn things in your pocket or bag.

Everyone keeps telling me to make my own business cards, but I have been dilly-dallying about it for nearly two years.  For all of that time, the only purpose that I could see for them was to have a little scrap of sturdy paper on which to write future appointments for clients, sort of like the cards the dentist uses when you have to schedule your next teeth cleaning six months ahead, something I also need to do when I get a bit of cash ahead.

One of the Library mucky-mucks mentioned it to me recently and when I saw her before I left today I told her that I was on my way to have some printed.  She approved, so I guess that means that this gig is actually working out for all of us.  Nice, really, to have that support for the work I do there.

However, by the time I left, I was exhausted.  It is blazing hot here, heat indexes over 100 all over the place.  Last night was a misery and I awoke all lathered-up with sweat and had to get going and shower and wash my stupid hair all over again.  So, I came home and took a nap. 

Now I have to get dressed again and venture out into the heat that is hotter than it is inside here, just to get those darn cards printed.  This all sucks, but it only lasts for a few weeks each year, or it has unless the whole global warming thing is true, and if I get through it each year, then this time should be no different, except that I am a year older and much crankier about such things.

As long as I am out, I might as well return the huge baskets, look for something smaller or buy sheet cake pans and glue, glue, glue.  I wish that I could justify eating dinner out somewhere, but because I had to rush with all the extra hair washing this morning I had a drive-through breakfast.  Rats.  I still might do it if the heat makes me crazy.