So, there are times when not only must I gear up for a phone call, I must also talk myself down after the phone call. And, since I've already wept big tears of exhaustion and release, whipped up a batch of my Gram's cookie dough to be rolled out later, and told my mom on the phone that I'd had a shi**y day (we hardly ever swear among my family of origin, so it was sweet that she responded, without a hint of disapproval in her voice "I can tell, and I'm sorry you've had a shi**y day."), I bring myself (oh, and you) the post-call, "It's really going to be OK" list:
* I hate that part of my job is helping people twice my age grow up. It's a good thing that I'm particularly great at doing it.
* My day consisted of several different situations that required very unique skill sets. I have them all, and excelled at most them. Oh, heck, who needs modesty. I rocked. All. Day. Long.
* I might not be wearing Those Jeans, but I am in my mind.
* I can't take responsibility for something you refuse to do.
* Look at me modeling healthy behavior! Look! Look! This is healthy behavior and communication. Did you take notes?
* Breathe in, breathe out.
* I won't be crushed if I don't have to do your funeral. Really.
* My sermon's not written yet; you still have a chance to be featured prominently (at least in my mind).
* Look at that lovely bottle of wine. Oh, and that one! And that one!
* Would you like to see the list that outlines why I'm so wonderful?
* You're right, it is Christmas. Merry Christmas.