Is it over yet?
It was one of "those" days. You know the kind. The days when everything you do turns instantly to shit as soon as you touch it? Yeah. Those days.
I got up at 6AM to do some work-work. I suppose that was my first mistake. And then I had a decaf coffee. Mistake No. 2.
From there, things just sort of disintegrated. I dropped stuff (not Ms. Baby, lucky her). I broke stuff. I couldn't seem to talk straight. Work got weird.
And then I tried to make lunch. And I burned pasta. Burned. Pasta. I didn't actually know that was even possible.
And had I been paying attention, I would have taken that as a sign and NOT tried to go to the store to get milk (which we were - and still are - out of). It was a disaster and we never even left the driveway.
Picture this: Kids in car. Kid paraphenalia in car. Mommy in car. Keys in house. House locked.
House locked. Keys in house.
And I mean ALL the keys - house keys, car keys, work keys, what-the-fuck-does-this-go-to keys - all of 'em.
It was 20 degrees outside and snowing and I'm sitting there in the car - keyless - and all I could say was "Oh no, oh no, oh no". By some miracle the car was warm-ish inside, so I left Ms. Four and Ms. Baby in there and walked around the house, repeatedly, trying every door and checking every window. No luck.
I tried to pick the lock with a diaper pin. No luck.
I tried to pry open the garage doors. No luck.
I tried The Force. No luck.
I considered the cat door. No way.
Desperate, despondent and finally realizing that the brain was clearly on strike today, I called the mothers-in-law. Both of them. They both said don't break a window and both offered to come pick us up. Having no choice, since The Husband had jury duty and was in the middle of some trial (no, actually, I'm not making that up), I agreed to be rescued. Just as we arrived at mother-in-law's house, The Husband called. The Situation was explained and arrangements to retrieve his keys were made and carried out. Three hours later, we were reunited with the keys and back inside the house.
And that should have been the end of the story, because isn't that enough already?
But wait. There's more.
The Husband finally got excused for the day and came home with roses for me and Ms. Four, (it was Valentine's Day, after all). All smiles, I took the roses to the kitchen sink to put them in water. Nice, cold, fresh water. I had to use the sprayer, because the damn sink was so full of dishes (stupid sink), and somehow - don't ask me how - I managed to squirt myself in the face with the nice, cold, fresh water.
Fitting end to the day, non?
I got up at 6AM to do some work-work. I suppose that was my first mistake. And then I had a decaf coffee. Mistake No. 2.
From there, things just sort of disintegrated. I dropped stuff (not Ms. Baby, lucky her). I broke stuff. I couldn't seem to talk straight. Work got weird.
And then I tried to make lunch. And I burned pasta. Burned. Pasta. I didn't actually know that was even possible.
And had I been paying attention, I would have taken that as a sign and NOT tried to go to the store to get milk (which we were - and still are - out of). It was a disaster and we never even left the driveway.
Picture this: Kids in car. Kid paraphenalia in car. Mommy in car. Keys in house. House locked.
House locked. Keys in house.
And I mean ALL the keys - house keys, car keys, work keys, what-the-fuck-does-this-go-to keys - all of 'em.
It was 20 degrees outside and snowing and I'm sitting there in the car - keyless - and all I could say was "Oh no, oh no, oh no". By some miracle the car was warm-ish inside, so I left Ms. Four and Ms. Baby in there and walked around the house, repeatedly, trying every door and checking every window. No luck.
I tried to pick the lock with a diaper pin. No luck.
I tried to pry open the garage doors. No luck.
I tried The Force. No luck.
I considered the cat door. No way.
Desperate, despondent and finally realizing that the brain was clearly on strike today, I called the mothers-in-law. Both of them. They both said don't break a window and both offered to come pick us up. Having no choice, since The Husband had jury duty and was in the middle of some trial (no, actually, I'm not making that up), I agreed to be rescued. Just as we arrived at mother-in-law's house, The Husband called. The Situation was explained and arrangements to retrieve his keys were made and carried out. Three hours later, we were reunited with the keys and back inside the house.
And that should have been the end of the story, because isn't that enough already?
But wait. There's more.
The Husband finally got excused for the day and came home with roses for me and Ms. Four, (it was Valentine's Day, after all). All smiles, I took the roses to the kitchen sink to put them in water. Nice, cold, fresh water. I had to use the sprayer, because the damn sink was so full of dishes (stupid sink), and somehow - don't ask me how - I managed to squirt myself in the face with the nice, cold, fresh water.
Fitting end to the day, non?
Comments
sounds like...
cat-up-in-a-tree
I know y'all are talking as if it couldn't happen, but why the heck couldn't it? (Aside from location being Hell) Fresh start for one, much needed sanity check for the other - how hard would it be for the kitty to move? Even to Hell...
I'm jusy sayin'
Any brilliant ideas?
unless...
Is there a college nearby? Might she be able to sublet for a summer? I did that a few times - once for a prof. and once for a student, and it was perfect in its limitations and expectations. That jibes with the June deadline and the limited-time-in -Hell desires and even, maybe, with the kitty. No help with the packing, though. My brain can only juggle so many details at a time.
Now, if I could only turn these magic problem-solving, decision-making capabilities to my own life, everything would tidy up nicely. It's so much easier to tell other people what to do!
Okay, I'll shut up now.
-L
Thanks for adding Street Anatomy to your 'Brain Food.' Don't judge my writing though, I'm a medical illustrator, not a medical editor...you guys intimidate me...just a little.