Nearly delirious

I've worked harder today, my day off, than I have all week. On the auction, of course, but it feels just like I'm planning any other event, and suddenly, after all my complaining, I love it.

Woke up late, at 9:30, because I was having metaphorically-relevant dreams about my car not being able to get up a snowy hill. Read: I'm fighting an uphill battle, heading up a slippery slope, and might get hurt along the way. This has nothing to do with the auction.

By 10:30 I was picking up more auction items in Century City; at 11:00 I was at Staples, and at 11:30, at the framing store, freaking out that Tom Hanks had gotten slightly wrinkled while squished in my trunk. I was home by noon, and spent four and a half hours creating bid sheets for two-thirds of the items taking over my apartment. At 4:30 I went to pick up two more frames, some straight pins to keep the bid sheets from flying away, and a Frappucino because I was guessing it was going to be a long night.

At 6:00 I sat back down, and finished the last 25 bid sheets by 9:00. I spent the last half hour arts-and-crafting placeholders, and I'm about to start writing out as many auction receipts as I can before my handwriting becomes completely illegible. I've eaten Lean Cuisines for the last three out of four meals; the fourth was a Slim Fast Bar. I haven't taken a shower since yesterday morning. But I just cracked open a beer and I honestly couldn't be happier.

Except for that nagging feeling that I need to get new snow tires.