I have simply got to get my act together in the morning. I spend way too much time in the barn, giving bottles to kittens and goat kids, changing duck water (which they are going to make black in no time anyway) and otherwise shooting myself in the foot as far as getting to work on time means. I can't believe no one has set a speed trap for me along my root. The Bucket of Bolts is capable of incredible speed when necessary, and long empty country roads are the perfect invitation to put the peddle to the metal. I had to get to school on time today to get a new student off the bus for the first time.....and had everything under control until.....I couldn't find my purse! The little dark green vintage Coach bag disappeared sometime between the last trip into the barn and putting my coat on. I spent way too much time looking for it, as it has my license, money, check books, etc., which made me even later and increased my chances of having to show my license for driving recklessly. The drama was intense. I finally left and drove like a crazy woman to Norwich. Everything was fine and I thought I would make it when I did something silly...I peeked into the other lane to see if I could pass a school bus lumbering it's way along near the school. I decided against it and got back in my lane, careened around the corner, and pulled into the parking lot. A late model car zoomed up alongside me. Ouch. It's the superintendent's secretary asking me if someone is dying as that is the only thing that would justify my driving like an insane person. It poured out....I have to get a new kid off the bus, I lost my purse, yada yada yada. I think she took pity on me as she sighed and said, "Have a wonderful day." The day was not too bad and here I am, about to go home with no purse, no license, no checkbook, and no way to buy the Friskies Salmon Pate or the myriad things I need for the Halloween party tomorrow. I will have to leave home VERY early and buy what I need on the way to school, setting me up for more stress and potential drama. Oh, and the annual costume angst. I'm planning on coming as Boudicea the Celtic Warrior Queen. I have the helmet and the boots, maybe the dress, with a blanket for a cape (thank you Ursula's Woolen's of Rhinebeck) but I don't have any Viking woman jewelry. I was thinking I would ask Candace to make some for me. Maybe next year. Thankfully there is always next year. I'm going out to the Bucket of Bolts now and will stroke the dashboard and apologize for pushing it so hard this morning. It will be a 55 Stay Alive trip home.