Crisis!
Not of health. Not of spirtuality. Not of mental state. A crisis of travel. That's what happens when you book flights days apart. That's what happens when you ask questions in the morning. That's what happens when you go off a black glitter diary from UK.
As you know, I bought a ticket for August 10. As you know, I return from another trip on August 8. Or so I though *dun Dun DUN!*
The crisis arose when I thought - or rather was told - that the former trip did not end until August 11. This caused a significant problem. I began counting numbers. I began rummaging through my checkbook. I began imagining numbers in the 300's. I began to sweat. I began to panic!
Scrounging through old emails I don't get didn't do anything. Then, a fateful call from my pastor. The dreaded question was posed. A pause. My blood pressure rose. What was this oversight going to cost me? How would it be resolved? Why was I so retarded. Why was I wearing a Pink Tutu!
...Wait. No. Scratch the pink tutu. Back to the crisis...
The dates came in.
August...
...8!
*whew* Crisis totally averted. Thank you, Lord! *whimpers in agony as the butterflies fight for ways out of her stomach, renting her internal organs into pieces*
I'm glad that matter was solved. Thought I'd share the horror I forewent for it.
You so better be happy :0| I am in utter pain. But hey, y'all -- at least I didn't fail, right?
And I need dates on Sept people. Work with me here! Work with me! :D
-RK
PS. And I feel an utter need to point out that this is still in UK time and I still don't care. Rock on. I'm going to bed. It's apparently very early. *bows*
As you know, I bought a ticket for August 10. As you know, I return from another trip on August 8. Or so I though *dun Dun DUN!*
The crisis arose when I thought - or rather was told - that the former trip did not end until August 11. This caused a significant problem. I began counting numbers. I began rummaging through my checkbook. I began imagining numbers in the 300's. I began to sweat. I began to panic!
Scrounging through old emails I don't get didn't do anything. Then, a fateful call from my pastor. The dreaded question was posed. A pause. My blood pressure rose. What was this oversight going to cost me? How would it be resolved? Why was I so retarded. Why was I wearing a Pink Tutu!
...Wait. No. Scratch the pink tutu. Back to the crisis...
The dates came in.
August...
...8!
*whew* Crisis totally averted. Thank you, Lord! *whimpers in agony as the butterflies fight for ways out of her stomach, renting her internal organs into pieces*
I'm glad that matter was solved. Thought I'd share the horror I forewent for it.
You so better be happy :0| I am in utter pain. But hey, y'all -- at least I didn't fail, right?
And I need dates on Sept people. Work with me here! Work with me! :D
-RK
PS. And I feel an utter need to point out that this is still in UK time and I still don't care. Rock on. I'm going to bed. It's apparently very early. *bows*
8 Comments:
I thought we were looking at the 9th through the 14thish. Let me know if that needs to change because I think I've found a good ticket price.
Yup. I know for a fact that I'm going back on the 14th, but I'm still working with Dad on the other. He hasn't booked the tickets yet, though, so for now we are unmolested.... er, I mean...good? Murder in the Cathedral strikes yet again - it's been doing that off and on since I've gotten back.
Whew, lucky you... Let's hope there are no other dangers to be averted!
Oh, and YAY TUTU!!!! Do you still have the one I gave you?
Oh the phone! Who gave who a tutu?! I feel so...smkrized. Or something.
And btw I commend your MitC quote. Brilliant. Utterly brillian!
I drew you a tutu, at Newbold - a long time ago when you asked for one. Don't you remember?
What's this about a phone?
I want to comment in this but I have absolutely no idea where to attempt to join in.
To be honest, I have no idea where the phone came from. It just appeared. Ignore it. I did.
And Widge. That was really purposeful, thank you.
You are so very welcome of course.
:P
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