Today I woke up with a master plan. The plan actually started the night before, a potty break here and there at night helped me finalize the plan. There is a lot going on at work with multiple deadlines  so needless to say my brain was/is working overtime but getting paid salary. 

I'm up early, that's the usual. Shower. Dressed. Emails checked-answered. Sure it's 5am, who cares I'm rolling, holla when you wake up. 

I step one foot on the staircase and...


My stomach robs me! 
It went something like...

"Blurp, where you going? Why you so happy and focused? Blurp, do me a favor, turn around, go into the bathroom (mutiple tiny blurps) and give me the goods...go...go!"

I came downstairs and uttered "my stomach is fucked up". The worst timing ever. By the time I got my son to school my high-speed locomotive gumption was dead and hogtied in the Potomac river.

I went to work in a faded black tee and flip flops. 



Post a Comment