Fergot

How could I? Yesterday -- thanks be to Aimee -- I was sent on a pitch meeting for work in Cherry Hill, NJ.


So, I drove with Big Papa -- well, he drove .. sometimes scarily.

I think that I'd probably get fired if I wrote about the pitch (and someone at HQ was actually searching these things ... doubtful), so I won't write about it, but I will write about the lead up and ending:

To wit, it was a brilliant idea to ride in the car with Big Papa -- no stress, no rehearsing, lots of screaming at traffic, and a couple of times I thought I'd wet myself:

Imagine that picture as a black woman in the passenger seat. I just have to say that they really don't teach the whole merge/allow to merge lessons very well in driving school, because there was a time on Rt. 70 that I thought I would die. The sad thing about that was, I was really cooncerned about how messy my apartment was. Many people have reported the "life flashing before the eyes" phenomenon when they're super-scared. Me? My messy, disorganized apartment flashed before my eyes, along with an image of my friends and family rooting through my things saying, "Good Lord, she lived like a pig. We're glad she's gone." Um-hmm, it was that messy. If I have to fly somewhere for work or whatever, I always REALLY clean the house before I leave because I'd hate to die, have people sad over it, and then have them further saddened when they have to sort through my things. From now on, I'll clean it up every day.