Unlike Alexander, I can’t say that I’ve had a bad day. Everyone is alive, healthy, I drove to my job, in my car and came home to a beautiful house that I own (or I will in, like, thirty years). But have you ever had a day where everything you touched just fell to shit? Almost through no fault of your own? Well, friends, today was that day. So I blogged it. Why do I think you’ll care about this? I’m not sure, except sometimes I use this blog as a journal. Which is convenient because no one really reads it.
Apropros of everything, A. (3yo) threw up on Saturday for completely unknown reasons. Because kids throw up for no reason (she later theorized that it was because she ate “something weird off the ground”.) But this means that for the last three nights, she “can’t sleep.” Keep this in mind.
Without further ado, here is my day:
1:35 AM, A: (whispers one inch from my face) MOMMY. THERE IS A SPIDER IN MY ROOM.
Me (with eyes closed): You don’t know that because it’s dark.
A: Can you come kill it?
(Spoiler alert, there was no spider. But I did read that late stage alcoholism results in spider hallucinations so we should consider moving the liquor.)
2: 47 AM, L (who is 6): MOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMY!IHADANIGHTMAREABOUTSCARYMENWITHGUNS!
Me: Wait, guns? What?
Spent 40 minutes laying in bed talking about why people kill people and evil things and what the meaning of life is. This part was more sad than annoying. But, honestly, it’s still 3 AM.
4:15 AM, A: (whispers one inch from my face) Mommy, I dropped my Elmo.
Me: Did you step over it to get here?
6:30AM, wake up, barely shower (skip hair and wash the important parts), run out the door because I’m late. Forget my coffee. FORGET MY FREAKING COFFEE. The gas light is on. And so is the oil light. And the tire light. But honestly, I think those last two have been on for a while now, so I’m sure it’s fine.
Stop and get gas. My debit card won’t work. Because a week ago, (A) decided to “be me” and “pay for everything” (in her playroom) with her credit card (not her credit card) and that apparently involved attacking it with knives and now the magnetic strip looks like it has been, well,…attacked with knives. Make a mental note to call the bank. (Crap, just realized I never called the bank.)
TRAFFIC. Par for the course.
8:30 AM: arrive at work, late for an 8:30 meeting. Immediately reschedule and cite a “conflict."
8:40 AM: Guy from 8:30 meeting walks past my desk, I make some lame excuse that makes no sense. I might say words “period” or “diarrhea”. I’m mired in lies.
I bring in cupcakes that no one eats. Okay, like one person eats them and it was maybe me.
8:45 AM: another meeting. Everyone else spends most of it talking about cats.
9-11 AM: read email (code for play on Facebook. NO, I’M KIDDING. Read and respond to email.)
11 AM: Try to print something. Printer jam. Have NO IDEA WHO TO CONTACT. I’m like an ant who has lost the ant in front of me. Print to the printer on the other side of the building, by the time I get there, someone has taken it by accident. Run back to my desk, print to printer in another zip code, and again, someone else has picked it up. Consider calling my coworker on his cell phone and asking him to print while I stand here and guard. Decide to give up instead.
12 PM: Need to start the lab thing. Go in, forget everything, come back out. Need to print something for the lab. Repeat 11 AM printer fiasco.
12:30 PM: Conference call, passive, THANK GOD. Play on Twitter and get SO EXCITED for friends who have had awesome news. Someone on the call hangs up early, everyone says bye and because I’m not entirely paying attention, I hang up too. Takes me 5 minutes to realize that the call wasn’t over. I have to call back and claim to have been disconnected. They all see through me, I think someone sneezes bullshit.
2 PM. I FORGOT TO EAT LUNCH. Spend five minutes celebrating this then realize the cafeteria is closed so now I have to eat from the vending machine. Scourge out the darkest corners of my purse and desk. Dime, dime, dime, nickel, Sacajawea coin, dime, dime, quarters, three-thousand two hundred seventeen pennies. Come up with EXACTLY $2.50. Run to the breakroom. They’ve upped the price of a Diet Coke to $1.60. HIGHWAY ROBBERY. I’M OUTRAGED. IT’S NOT EVEN AN EVEN NUMBER IN QUARTERS. They’ve also upped the price of the vending machine snacks from eight-five cents to a dollar. My $2.50 lunch is now $2.60. But wait, they take debit card because they hate health and want to kill you. Oh, crap, my debit card has been attacked by knives. Ask random man who comes into the breakroom if he has a dime. SCORE, HE DOES.
|Everything is terrible|
3 PM. Take my sad Diet Coke to a meeting. Starve. Try to focus.
3:30 PM: have to print labels for IMPORTANT SAMPLES before I leave. System is locked out. Email admin #1, out of office, refers me to admin #2 who is out of office and refers me to admin #1.
4 PM: Run out to my car, drive home. TRAFFIC. Red, blinking, very helpful and informative light on dash says there is a PROBLEM with a terrifying triangle and an abnormally large exclamation point. I get home somehow without spontaneous combustion, park the car in the garage and promptly forget all about “Problem.”
5:30 PM: Help (L) with homework. NEW MATH. I’m an idiot. I cannot add or subtract because it is all different and weird. I tell my kids that I am a scientist and they seem wholly unimpressed.
6 PM: Decide to take kids to Applebee’s for Kids Night. THEY HAVE CHARACTERS. The creepiest as fuck characters you ever saw. Once, we saw a Hello Kitty with giant diamonds for eyes, I shit you not. We get to Applebee’s and THEY NO LONGER DO CHARACTERS.
|The heartbreak is real.|
6:15 PM: Let’s go to McD’s! YAY! I’m a hero!
Side note: The dash lights are gone. One for the win column.
6:25 PM: I’m at McDisasters. Why am I here? Sweet, it’s kids night! Everyone on earth is here. $1.99 Happy Meals. I order Happy Meals. Total $16.45. Wait, what? Oh, it’s not $1.99 for 6 nuggets only 4? Fine, here take my debit card. Crap, knives, I forgot. Take my credit card. It’s expired. Do you take a check? (FYI: McDonalds WILL TAKE A CHECK) Kids are running all around the food area and inexplicably disrobing. People hate me. I get to the table only to discover they have given me 4 nuggets (ea) (not for $1.99) and 3 orders of fries in each Happy Meal. Wait. Did I pay for this?! And who in the name of Abraham Lincoln would give their kids three orders of fries?
6:27 PM: Lament about the state of health in America. Remember that I tried to eat Smart Pop for lunch.
6:28 PM: Go to counter, fight with new girl. She literally HANDS ME FOUR NUGGETS. Okay, fine. Weird. But fine. Also, she forgot the apples. Go back to counter. We eat for approximately zero-point-two seconds and stop to go to the bathroom. Complete meltdown over hand dryer (“it is too whooshy”). Carry (A) sack-of-potatoes-style back to the table.
7:10 PM: Kids play. Everything is calm. By calm I mean ear-shattering loud. There is a lady standing well within my personal space zone, YELLING up to the top of the play gym: SIMON SIMON SIMON. GO INTO THE BUBBLE. SIMON SIMON SIMON. GO INTO THE BUBBLE. SIMON SIMON SIMON. GO INTO THE BUBBLE. SIMON SIMON SIMON. This goes on for a while. I’m not entirely sure what it means.
7:30 PM: It’s the Time to Leave Fight. Enough said, right? No one wants to wear shoes and I’ve given up. It’s October and I completely let them walk to the car in their socks (to be fair, I rarely judge anyone else’s parenting).
8:00 PM: Watch TV, snuggle, tuck them into bed. It’s easier than usual. Kiss on the forehead and then: you’re the best mom ever.
And just like that, the bad day is over.