I am losin it. I want busy season to be over. Over damnit! I wore dirty underwear twice last week, and here’s the thing – I wasn’t even out of clean underwear. I was just too lazy to walk back to my closet and get clean ones after I noticed. Yesterday I couldn’t find anything to wear because half of my clothes were dirty, and the other half were wrinkled. Here’s yesterday’s outfit after I Downy Wrinkle Release-ed it (multiple times).
Higher-ups speak proudly, even affectionately about “hitting stride” during busy season. According to the dictionary, this means we’ve achieved a steady and effective pace, or, we’ve attained a maximum level of competence.
Before I became a fatass accountant I actually ran some marathons and stuff. Since this idiom actually hails from running, it seems appropriate to note that when I was training for marathons and “hit my stride”, it meant that I was gliding through my workout like a young and virile gazelle. Hitting stride in busy season feels more like struggling to keep my head above water so that I’ve got the clearance to stuff a donut into it. Or a McChicken. I can feel myself getting slower and dumber as the lack of sleep catches up. I’ve given up on a social life (not like it was super active before, but still) and spend my Sundays grocery shopping and doing laundry.
What I’ve learned this busy season is that if done right, the terrible food and sedentary lifestyle stretches your body to fill in your wrinkled clothes. That way your expanding stomach and thighs become a built-in, homemade iron. Note in the picture above that there are no wrinkles around my waist and stomach. Start to drift south where the McChicken hasn’t had time to do its work yet, and the wrinkles are out of control. Sounds like it’s time to up the intake. Here’s a step-by-step guide for your DIY Pinterest board:
I think I hit my stride about two months ago. At this point it’s more of an amble over the finish line with a sprained ankle, and I really hope someone’s waiting with donuts.