Where Have I Been?
Oh. My. God. This has been really the most insane week of my life. I didn't get home tonight till almost 8. We have our big gala tomorrow night for work and we've been doing all this extra stuff--placing ads, PR, media tours, etc. that has take a hell of a lot of time and energy. I still have to make a few calls from home tonight to confirm everything. Plus it might snow tomorrow and who the hell knows if everyone will be able to even get there? I'm just exhausted and so sick of all of it. I will be so happy tomorrow night when this is all over. Except it won't be over, cause I'll have to send some press releases afterwards at like 11 p.m.
All the hullabaloo is over our big awardee. In the past, we've honored people like Mister Rogers and LeVar Burton but this year is really big. Like former President-big. Like having to deal with his office to get every little mention of him approved-big. Like having to do a run through with secret service this week-big. Like having to give my name, dob, and social security number for a background check-big. It has been very interesting to say the least. I would not want to be on the staff of someone like that. It is completely exhausting. The cool thing is there is a 50-50 chance I will get to meet him. I oversee the photography at the event and we've got a photo opp lined up, and either myself or my cohort I've been working PR with will do it. We both say we don't care who does it, but I must be honest and say I think it should be me.
Anyway, that's my news. As of tomorrow, it will all be over. But I think I will need to go in this weekend to straighten my wreck of an office. I never got to meet with the person who is sort of taking over my position, and I don't know if it will happen. I have to go in Monday, but only for our office party. I feel like I just haven't had enough time to do everything and leave things in a good way. So that really sucks. But I've worked my ass off this week, and I guess that is the best that I can do. But I'm not happy about it.
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