Dehydrated

I woke up dehydrated. My lips were cracked and my head was pounding. Think I'm on my fifth bottle of water. All filled from filter not five actual bottles. Save the planet and all that.
Got a lot accomplished at house. Every day that goes by I feel more and more proud. It's so NEAT for lack of a better word.

Therapy 106

The table was empty when I got out of the shower. I wasn't surprised and was honestly thankful. As I towel dried my hair I meandered throughout my house looking for Wren.

I hope she ran outside or is under the bed. I swear to god that if she starts disappearing at whim then I really will find myself in a padded cell. Which might not be so bad. Three squares plenty of sleep.

The theme song to COPS scares me out of my reverie. I stupidly grab my phone without looking at the caller.

"Evan? It's Greg."

SHIT!! SHIT! shit.

"I'm glad you took this call. It was going to be the last one. You've been fucking avoiding this situation for too fucking long. The world is still spinning Evan, you hear me? If you even want to have a GLIMMER of a God damn hope of POSSIBLY having a desk job you will get your ass here by 1 o'clock. If that chair in the meeting room is not occupied by your fucking body five minutes before the meeting starts, you will be done here. Do you understand me Evan?"

I couldn't really think of a response so I cleared my throat to buy time. "....I..." 

Apparently that was a good enough answer for my boss because he promptly hung up on me. 

Well, that went better than I expected.