Scheduling freaks me out. There I said it.

I’ve been afraid of a lot of things in my life. Some of the rightly so, like rabid bears attacking me while walking in the wilderness, and some of them just plain stupid, like being afraid of malls.

Don’t be a afraid of everything, man, Afraid of Everything Man!

But the greatest angst inducing thing I’ve done in a long time is producing and scheduling and trying to get people and objects in the same place at the same time.

Man…this is tough. So much so I had a little hissy fit today.

“WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH…I’m so put upon! WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH…everyone with their fucking fetish object kids. WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH…no one returns a call!”

Sometimes you just need a slap. Sometimes you need someone to tell you you’re a whiny little bitch.

I didn’t get that today. Instead it was glorious self-observation that allowed me to slap myself around. (By the way, I don’t recommend self-observation…it’s pretty damn scary. Way more scary than malls.)

I’ve calmed down and did laundry and the schedule is having to come together tomorrow and I’m not sure how that will happen and man, what I really need is Don to save the day.

So many details in something so undeniably silly and the fact that this is all stressing me is definite proof of a comedy fabric to the universe.

Note: According to google only 9 people beside me ever wrote “fear of scheduling”. That’s amazing. Is it just me that finds having to call seven strangers and having to work out a plan with them maddening and scary? Perhaps I’m just weird. Or maybe…maybe it’s just that most people can’t admit their fear. They hide behind pleasantries and suck down their angst holding it in a little ball in their bellies that turns to stone and is passed out through the urethra in a screaming fit of agony at 3 AM on a sultry summer evening as the full moon hovers on the horizon.