complete and utter disbelief

Chaos does not begin to describe this place. I am turning in a slow circle, my arms outstretched, and people are shouting at me and putting things into my hands. My head is spinning. My mouth is throbbing. There are shooting pains down my neck and back. I want nothing more than to crawl into a bed and cry, but here I stay, turning in circles and trying to communicate through a mouth that will not form the words I need to say. I can think clearly enough but I am slowed by the pain and hampered by the fog. I am shaking with anger. I want to stamp my foot and leave in a rage. I want to thrust my armload back into the smirking faces surrounding me. I want to poke every rolling eye with a sharp dirty stick. But I can't, because I am an example.

This is not even a dream. I can't simply wake up and shake it off. This is, believe it or not, a Girl Scout camping trip. I am not going on this trip, yet here I am, still trying to get the trip started in the right direction. I am surrounded by parents who want nothing more than to drop their daughters off and leave me with a teetering pile of fuzzy slippers, sleeping bags, eggs, milk and crafts so they can get back to their televisions, computers and cold drinks. I am standing in the school parking lot, stoned out of my mind on percocet still begging parents to volunteer to drive 18 girls and assorted supplies 30 minutes down the road so I can go home and rest. I mean, I only have 17 stitches in my head. Who the hell do I think I am, trying to drop off my own child and go home?

I have parents who want to help, but can't because they are actually on their way to work. Then I have the 15 other parents - the ones who make their daughters call me to ask when the meetings are EVERY WEEK. The ones who don't answer the phone and don't check their emails so their daughters show up without presents at the "exchange-a-gift" meeting. (How cool is that? To be the only girl not going home with a present?) The ones who send their daughters to ask me (ME!! I'm not even GOING!) to change their seats because their kids only want to ride in the car with certain people. The ones who stand there with their arms crossed, glaring at me because the pickup time has been changed, due to a chaperon needing to leave early. The ones who make me feel like a bad person because I have no clue what's going on right now. This trip has been a planning nightmare and no one wanted to step up and help me do anything for their daughters. Yet they seem to think they have reason to be mad at me.

And now one hour and 17 minutes after the troop left, I have one mother calling to tell me that she wasn't sure when the trip was supposed to be. And that I need to tell her how to get there. As if this whole trip was news this week and it's my fault she never had a chance to put it on her calendar.

As the sun sets, I honestly hope they have arrived on board. Our troop is the first one in the council to participate in this activity. This trip is supposed to be sooooo cool. I am so depressed that I can't be there. Our troop is staying on board a Liberty Ship from the WWII era, the SS John Brown. They are preparing all their own meals in the galley and sleeping 5 to a bunk belowdecks. They'll learn about compasses and navigaton and different knots and their uses. I have all the plans laid out; what badges they are earning, and some weather stuff to boot. I can't go because of these stupid teeth o'mine. *sigh* As much trouble as it is to plan this stuff, I really could care less about the parents now, because I'm not in this for the parents. They all suck anyway or they would be leading the troop. I hope the girls tell me tales about their night on the ship and beg me to plan it again next year. I will, of course.

I just wish I could do it all without the parents.