Excited much?!?

My pajama party is today... my intention yesterday was to go home and clean like a crazy person and then collapse in a heap on the floor, only awake enough to growl menacingly at any family member who even thought about dropping a crumb or not putting dishes in the dishwasher. Well, the road to hell and all that... I cleaned the living room like a crazy person and then (again, much like a crazy person) got distracted by the loud, shiny box in front of the big, soft thing (that is, I took a long nap in bed with the TV on).

I did some preparing later - some mixing and a little baking and some more cleaning. I was shocked at how much laundry had not been done. Apparently my laundry boy has not been keeping up with demand (but then we knew that yesterday, didn't we?). It's still not all done - and not just the laundry. I went to Wal Mart and bought lots of fruit and veggies - don't be too proud, they'll both be served with dip. I was working in the kitchen when a rogue can of ravioli fell from the cabinet and landed on my toe. I think it went something like, "Oh shitty fuck, fuck. Fuckity damn fucking fuck. Ow ow ow ow." From the den, my husband called out, "Everything ok in there?" Peachy fucking keen, jelly bean. I had to stop cleaning as I was bleeding on the floor and we had no band aids. So I cleaned myself up, wrapped my toe in a panty liner. Yes, a panty liner - toilet paper would have just stuck to it and gotten the wound all linty. Don't judge me, it worked.

I woke up at 3:30 this morning thinking, "I don't have any Sharpies. We must have Sharpies in every imaginable color so that we can label our plastic wine glasses." I couldn't get back to sleep... but going to Wal Mart at 4 a.m. for Sharpies is just on the other side of crazy from where I like to be. I got up and took a shower and turned the laundry around and started the dishwasher and sat on the couch with a book and a cat for about half an hour and suddenly I had a list of things that I did not buy last night that were necessary to the success of my party. Because going to Wal Mart at 4 a.m. for Sharpies is wacko, but going to Wal Mart at 5, on my way to work, for paper plates in two sizes, Kleenex, band aids and extra water (and Sharpies) is NOT crazy, it's practical.

I'll have about four hours once I get off to clean the bathroom and the den and to get all of my snacks out... and Andie is coming over at 3 to help with final preparations before everyone else arrives. I'm excited and nervous... what if nobody comes? What if people come but have a really bad time? What if everyone is allergic to cats? What if there is a sudden ice storm at 2 this afternoon? What if there aren't enough places to sit? What if nobody talks and I start that nervous talking thing. Monkey, monkey, underpants. Seriously.

The husband says I need to relax (duh) because all of these people are my friends and everything will be fine. I say other than Christmas Eve I have not had a party at my house with more than four people since I was in 8th grade and so how does he know?

(Deep breath in, and breeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaathe).

Of course it will be fine. How hard is a party anyway?!? You invite every nice person you know, set a theme, buy presents for prizes, buy supplies like Sharpies and napkins. You clean, set out some food and turn the heater up a little higher than usual. You kick the husband and child out of the house for a few hours and drink some wine and laugh a lot and sneak out for cigarettes with the two or three other smokers.

And you wear your tiara.