Working through the worries (or, I am a neurotic girly-girl); Orientation Day

Today is Orientation, and so of course immediately in sets my particular brand of organizational panic: that being that everything I needed done in advance is, of course, not done. Case in point: I can’t find things and my parking sticker is not properly affixed to my vehicle.

Why? I don’t properly know. Because I hadn’t done it before now. For me this task includes cutting, something I’m fairly bad at doing in a straight line, so I need Boyfriend to help. Boyfriend is annoyed at my morning-person tendencies as of late and is completely ignoring me by way of getting out of bed just to go back to sleep on the couch. I don’t entirely blame him, but here I am, helpless, because he is the tailor and it is his damn rotary cutter that I need to use to cut the transparency that the nice Staples people gave me for free in order to have something to stick the sticker to that is not being permanently stuck to the window of the car, which only theoretically belongs to me (I still sometimes have nightmares that my dad will just casually ask for it back. My dad is buying a new BMW, he doesn’t need my six-year-old Toyota, although he does borrow it when in my area). Maybe I should ask Boyfriend to wake up and help me cut the transparency and stick the sticker on. It’s not like I actually know how to use the rotary cutter. And being able to park legally would be a plus.

Then immediately I realize that something is wrong with the picture over by my mirror. Namely, that my eyeshadow and concealer are both gone. They are not on the floor right by the mirror, or in my purse, or in the ensuite, and I never keep makeup in the properly-sized bathroom. Check anyway. Nope, no makeup there. I really need the concealer because it is also my acne medication, and without it I have let’s say a lot of problems with my face looking as if it’s entirely made of bumps. Not a good plan in my book. Frantic looking for concealer yields nothing.

And I haven’t had breakfast yet. Or taken a shower. I have over twenty inches of hair, it takes some time to dry, and I can’t go over it with the iron (which I need to prevent my frizz attacks in reaction to any weather over 50 degrees) until it is actually dry. I should eat breakfast before I take the shower, in case I do something weird like get food in my hair, which is actually not all that weird when I haven’t trimmed my normally cheekbone-length bangs in three weeks and they sometimes dangle into my mouth. I should probably add “trim bangs” to the list of things I haven’t yet done today.

Having gotten distracted thinking about the bangs I won’t trim until later tonight anyway, I’ve managed to forget what else I was supposed to be worrying about. Not sure if I’m going to bring my netbook or not; after all, I have no sleeve for it and I’d hate for it to get chipped. (It’s new. RIP, old netbook that fit in the sleeve I had, I will miss you and hope you manage to be repaired by a parent who can use you.) But I wasn’t focused on that before, I was reminded of it letting my eyes roam across my dining area to where the netbook was hanging out on a chair. I think I was busily worrying about what shirt I was going to wear, and if it was okay to wear my knee-high boots because they’re the most supportive shoes I have and I’m having a very bad foot week, and then concern over coordinating eyeshadow I can’t find with a shirt I haven’t identified, and only then did I manage to start thinking about jewelry, and then paused full-stop to realize how much of a girl I am.

I should probably go eat breakfast. Take a shower. Make sure all the stuff that needs to be in my purse is actually in my purse, not forgetting my CPR card this time. Pick out clothes. Don’t put them on. Find coordinating makeup. Put that on first. Then put on clothes. Then take hair down from towel. Sit on porch until hair is dry enough to iron, then iron. At some point in this hope that Boyfriend has dealt with the vehicle tag’s being cut and then find some tape to affix it to the car. Fret over shoes. Give up, find socks, wear knee-high boots anyway because in medical fields your feet are an important investment. Continue racking brain to attempt to remember where I was going to go before my orientation (after is easier: grocery store, parallel parking extravaganza, maybe Staples, definitely drugstore, probably somewhere else that has just slipped my mind), give up, leave anyway.

That sounds like a decent enough plan.

All of this passed through my mind in the span of about two minutes. It took me ten to actually write it out. I don’t know what that says, either, but it certainly is easier to go back and take it all in when I can stare at it. Thank you, blog. My apologies, readers.