I'm hosting an event at my house tomorrow for my business... and let's just say there are several things I should be doing right now instead of posting about how I am a slacking procrastinator who dreads the idea of stuffing things into balloons and trying to step outside of my limited "making-things-cutesy" box in order to, well... make things cutesy.
What do you do though, right? I blame it on genetics. To get things done, I need a big, ugly, black stormcloud of a deadline looming on the horizon, growing ever closer while my blood pressure increases, my palms start getting sweaty and my husband starts getting irritable. Thanks, mom!
My best guess is that at about 8:15 tonight, I'll fly into a panic and make Mike bake something while I run to the store and throw things into my cart indiscriminately before rushing home, where I'll realize that I forgot the most vitally important things on my list (which I neglected to create until 8:16 pm when I was already in a dither). At that point I'll send Mike back out for those things while I stuff balloons, make signs, curse under my breath, give myself papercuts and watch "Twilight" twice (a seriously flawed decision on my part, as I will give neither the movie nor my projects the attention they deserve).
Around two in the morning I'll fall into a restless sleep, until about an hour before I need to wake up when I'll slip into an exhaustion-induced coma. I will almost certainly sleep in, and when I send Mike out for helium-filled balloons for the front yard I will busy myself by drinking too much coffee, cursing under my breath and taking a hurried shower.
At this point I will undoubtedly be very short on time, so I'll (sort of) do my hair and makeup while I wonder aloud at my sheer idiocy for (a.) putting things off and (b.) choosing a start time of 11:00 instead of 1:00. Mike and I will probably get into a little argument when he returns with the wrong color of balloons because I will be seriously irritable and slightly unstable. He will take the kids to the park, and I will plaster on a smile while greeting my first guests and hope that I didn't forget something major like paper plates (which I probably did indeed forget.)
Until then, though? It's smooth sailing, people. I'm gonna go paint my toenails.