My First Intervention

Yesterday, three of my girlfriends at work came into my office, closed my door and told me they were intervening. Intrigued, I couldn’t wait to hear what exactly they were talking about.

While I do have a larger than is probably healthy affinity for Jack Daniels, I haven’t had one in about 7 months now, courtesy of the parasite currently residing inside my stomach. And I was never into illegal drugs – I’m just too cheap and would much rather spend my dough on shoes or clothes or lipstick.

Turns out, they were offering their services to come to my house and take a clean sweep approach to getting the baby’s room ready. Another work friend had already offered to come by a week from Saturday, when the Rickster is out of town, to tackle the same project. Now it’s turning into a veritable party!

How nice it is to have good friends willing to take on such a major undertaking. Then it hit me: maybe they have no idea what they’re getting into. So to ensure that we’d still be friends afterwards, I showed them pictures of the ‘nursery’ as it stands today.

As you can see, it’s been hit by a hurricane. It is in no way, shape or form even close to being ready for our little future tornado. (Much like me and the Rickster’s mental state.) They weren't scared off, so I’m happy for the help.

But also a little stressed – I now have a week to do a cursory cleaning before they come over lest I find all my stuff out on a tarp in the front yard with 30 minutes to decide what to keep, sell or toss.