41 Days and venting

I can't believe it's April already. There's only 41 days until our Relay For Life event. It's crazy how fast time goes, and I still can't believe I'm in charge of an event for an entire city. Who'da ever thunk that?

It really is approaching the point where it's becoming a little overwhelming. I had the toughest time Wednesday night, where I essentially ran 2 hours of meetings by myself. For having over 100 people so far registered for the event, it's tough to see less than an eighth of that show up for a meeting. It's frustrating to invest so much of myself into this and to see how little other people do for it.

Sometimes I wish I could just be a participant. Go to Unos or Pennellas or Applegates and stuff my face and hand over a flyer so they can donate the money and show up and walk on May 16. It's like pulling teeth to get someone to participate. I'm not even talking about donating at this point. (Although, seriously, I cannot name one person who cannot donate money, economy be damned. You can't tell me that you can't give up your lunch money one day and eat leftovers, or have only 5 beers instead of 10 one Saturday night to support your friends or family.)

Granted, I am making huge, sweeping statements and assumptions. I realize this. I guess I'm just surprised at certain situations.

[Also, please note that my intention is to vent and not make vague accusations against friends who might read this. And I fully intended to plug and praise you in here Em, but I got carried away. Next time! :)]

You don't mess with a man's cheese product.

No one should have to work on Saturday. Which I guess technically isn't possible because then nothing would get done on the weekends. Bad thing? I don't care.

I've been keeping some healthy munchies at work so any temptation to have a cookie or some other fat-laden baked object would be curbed. Yogurt, fruit, triscuits, cheese, peanut butter... you get the picture. I've been keeping my perishables in the drawer on the bottom of the fridge.

About half an hour ago, I was greeted with an almost-empty package of string cheese. As in we went from 12 on Thursday when I left to 2.

Heinous fuckery.

You don't TOUCH my cheese unless you are given explicit permission to do so. A pox on you, cheese stealer. May you become lactose intolerant and smitten by burning flatulence.

Asshole.

"You wanna pick me up?"

There's this lady on her cell phone, looking through clothes on a rack in the store. There's assorted merchandise strewn over her cart in a comical fashion. She looks like she tried to put herself together pretty nice to go out shopping. She is also speaking stereotypically loud.

"They're coming for dinner?"
"Are they coming for dinner?"
"I was thinking dinner at like 2 or 3 and you're saying 6 or 7"
"Where were the keys?"
"Did you find the keys?"
"What did you do with the keys?"
"You have the keys?"

Hahahaha. I immediately thought of this and only wished that life was as magical as an animated sitcom.