Mrs. President

Today, a day of running, jumping, climbing trees and finally forcing myself to get into the swing of classes (i.e., write important dates on the calendar, finish buying books, find folders, etc.), I feel very accomplished. Minutes are out, Choke has been returned, exams are on the calendar, I know when the Hopwoods are, I'm planning meetings with my second readers, I know when Maisie's coming over, and I have outlined my Valentine's Day mini-comic. Hint: it ain't purty.

Had a dream a few nights ago inspired by some information Ross gave me about Cherish. Dreamed that I was a crummy intern at some Fortune 500 level company, and when I walked in from a four-day weekend one Tuesday I found that they had made me President of the firm. My boss had just become my underling. I was terrified. I protested, telling them that I was twenty-two (I was in the dream, okay?) and had no idea how to run a business, but they insisted I take the position. Everyone, it seemed, believed in me except me. But I was no idiot. Eventually I accepted my presidency -- and my presidential salary -- and in true new office bitch fashion, took my old boss shoe shopping. Of course, this is me we're talking about, so we were looking at hiking boots and the same orange slip-ons I already own, all in that great outdoorsy shoe store in East Lansing that has a tank with a puffer fish swimming around in it. Playmakers. That's it. So we hung out at Playmakers and I tried to avoid my many daunting responsibilities.

Craziness. Also, I get a new dog tomorrow. "With an "A"'s" dog. I still really miss my 'Bumbo, but hey -- Maisie will be fun, and a good distraction.