Twelve tabs.
There are twelve fucking tabs now.
When I last checked, there were six. Which was already five too many.
I click through them: Main Schedule, Bar Rotations, Fundraising Goals, Social Media Calendar, Volunteer Coordination, Adoption Events, Equipment Needs, Vendor Contacts, Emergency Contacts, Budget Tracking, Post-Game Celebration Planning, and something labeled Hendrix's Greatest Hits, which I'm afraid to open.
My assignment list has grown. I'm still on hats—those are done, thank fuck—but now I'm also apparently in charge of "coordination with equipment manager re: loaner gear for firefighters" and "backup transportation logistics."
I don't even know what backup transportation logistics means.
I close the spreadsheet before my brain melts and then groan when a new notification pops up. A Reddit DM.
Do I have the energy for that right now? No. No, I don't, but I click it anyway because I'm a people pleaser and the thought of someone—anyone—being disappointed in me gives me nausea. I'm yet to decide which one of my parents I can blame for that, but once I do—run.
OnlyNewRadicals_69:ghosted by an online barely-acquaintance. oh, how tragic has my life become
I snort, and even that tiny extra flow of air hurts my strained muscles. At least this guy's funny. I could use a little laugh right now. Before I pass out from exhaustion.
Need_Tailor_Chicago:Is it still ghosting even if there were no messages? Damn. The goalpost just keeps on moving.
OnlyNewRadicals_69:don't mind me, just checking if you're alive. it was either that or setting a google alert for "murder+tailoring scissors+chicago" and I don’t need more notifications
Tell me about it…
Need_Tailor_Chicago:You and me both. But yeah, alive. Barely. December's been kicking my ass.
OnlyNewRadicals_69:ass you say???i'm all ears
I huff out a laugh. I forgot the guy's ridiculous.
Need_Tailor_Chicago:I thought we've already talked about it…
OnlyNewRadicals_69:your ass? i don't recall
OnlyNewRadicals_69:jk jk. i'll be good. so why is december a bitch?
Because I'm mid-season and somehow I'm finding myself juggling like two extra jobs on top of that.
Need_Tailor_Chicago:Work and stuff.
OnlyNewRadicals_69:saaaaaame. what do you do for work?
I scrunch my nose. This is the part in any casual online interaction where you straight up lie. We all do it. It's one of the curses of being an athlete. Or any public-facing person, really. No online connection can ever become anything resembling a real friendship. Because it's always built on a lie.
I push the guilt that's already bubbling up down to the depths of my soul where it belongs and opt for my go-to response.
Need_Tailor_Chicago:I'm in fitness.
OnlyNewRadicals_69:HA! I KNEW YOU WERE HOT!
I chuckle. Damn. I keep forgetting who I'm dealing with.
Need_Tailor_Chicago:Hot and straight, as you surely recall.
OnlyNewRadicals_69:??and boring
OnlyNewRadicals_69:got any hot single non-straight friends then? asking for a friend
