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I don’t know how I did it, but I found myself in the scrapbook aisle of Michael’s yesterday. I was looking at labels one might affix to a mason jar for wedding favors, and as I scanned the options — left to right, up and down, around and around — I had the feeling that I couldn’t catch my breath.

I don’t think it was an actual panic attack, but its something that happens to me this time of year. I should know better than to even set foot into Michael’s in June, or even December after that one time I ruptured a blood vessel in my eye trying to decide whether to leave the line for cookie tins.

Everything it NOT awesome and I wish everybody would just stop singing that. Or even if I could stop humming the tune. Here is why:

1. Remember those camp registrations I sent in April? No one got them. Repeat: They were not received. The checks are un-cashed and the art lessons and swim team and sailing camp the kids have been planning for might as well be fictional. What fresh hell am I in for now? I’ve spent a few days emailing, calling, resubmitting applications and praying to the usual God, but I’m not sure that’s working.

2. Where have all the lunch food containers gone? They are not in their nice, reusable container drawer I set up in september. They are not in the dishwasher clean or dirty. They are not in the sink. They are not even in yesterday’s lunch boxes. Come to think of it, where are they?

4. No one has shorts. This is similar to a phenomenon that happened in November, or what I like to call Shortsucopia. Also known as: the great jeans shortage of 2014.

5. No one likes the 15 pairs of shorts I just bought.

6. Last day of school is Friday and I have to put together the teacher gift. As a class mom, my part is to get small spa-inspired goodies to go in the bag with a gift card. I saw an adorable candle on Etsy with a cute saying about teachers (something about consuming themselves to light the way for others.) and a gel filled eye mask. Great! I went to order it last friday and when I got to the pay screen I noted the amount was in pounds. As in, the candle was inEngland and there was no way it would make it here in less than a week.

I was with a few friends who were like “You could totally get a candle and a printer label and do that yourself.” My throat is closing a little just writing that.

So that’s how I got to Michael,s. I got a candle and chose Cucumber Basil because it seemed more “spa” than Ice Cream Cone, which was really the best smelling option. Then I found those labels, but they’re teeny. No way that self immolation quote is going to fit on them. I got some other larger cards shaped like the labels I wanted and a sheet of this stuff that makes “anything a sticker,” and moved on. I’m going to have to write the quote myself, which will look bad (maybe they’ll assume the students did it?). And I am already feeling nauseous from the fake Cucumber Basil smell.

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