The Job and Frozen Waffles

The school year has begun. Not just for my kids, but for life at work as well. The parking lots on campus are filled with kids clearly not recollecting anything they learned in driver's ed just a few short years prior. There is an unspoken five minute grace period for anyone attending a meeting on the opposite side of campus due to no parking and, best of all, the non-profit event world is in full swing.
When we are not worrying about making it out of our own events still standing, there are invitations for nights out to support the community. I have dodged the bullets this fall as we are allocating less money for us to go network (read: poach donors) in our backyard with our business cards as spotlights after the sun goes down.
And at home, I have been working on juggling getting both the boys, myself and my coffee out of the house by 7ish everyday. If I drop them both off, it gives me two more minutes with my oldest that I, and he, will appreciate one day. No more morning gym workouts for me- cancelled those so I can make frozen waffles and hunt for the reclusive sneaker in the closet.
Back to that event business. I, once I committed about 150+ people and their checkbooks to this event, which is now at a head count of 460, decided to volunteer to take on the game that we love to hate- seating. It has consumed me. I have inherited the name "Twitchy" amongst my colleagues because every time I receive an email, call or message that "Jack Smith is now coming, but Joe Blow isn't, but he's given his tickets to Mary Jane and her tribe of four", I start having a small Turret's session as I realize that our hard work has to be re-done, my spreadsheet is no longer perfect, and my post-it note table circles pinned up on the Gala War Room wall, need to be moved. Again.
But, it'll all be over at midnight on Saturday. Then what?
My chocolate brown velvet dress and heels gets replaced with my Pats t-shirt, some skinny jeans and flip flops, and I'll be off to the next project. But not until Monday morning. When I have to get up and do it all over again. Frozen waffles and all.