It started with a HORRIBLE night's sleep. (I would not even call it sleep, as that never really happened.) I was restless thinking of all the things I had to accomplish today, the appointments that needed to be shifted, and the errands that were essential. When I decided I could no longer pretend that I was doing anything near "sleeping," I forced myself out of bed. THROBBING HEADACHE! (I recognized it immediately as one of the headaches I get, when I have had almost zero sleep.) The first thing I did was take a Motrin with my Quaker Breakfast Shake. (Swallowing a pill with a lukewarm, melted milkshake is NOT fantastic. I do not recommend it.) I, then, crawled back into my bed and created my Daily To-Do List. (A must for all people with OCD.)
After I made my list, I hopped in the shower. The shower is, typically, my most favorite place. Forty percent of the time, it is my haven. I am alone, with my thoughts, no one to bother me. (It dropped to 40%, once my girls were old enough to realize the joy of showers and how to ruin Mommy's alone time. Now, the majority of my showers are spent trying to step between two toddlers playing at the basin, while I lean my head into the stream of water that they are ALWAYS DIRECTLY UNDER!) Today, it was not so great, as the water was pelting my head like a stream of tiny bullets, only worsening my headache.
Once out and ready (and by ready I mean an old pair of jeans, a comfy t-shirt, flip-flops, and a ball cap), I started my list of appointments and errands. It started with a spa pedicure. (HEAVEN!) Everything was going so well. I was thoroughly enjoying myself. My headache had subsided. I saw a friend from Bootcamp. The new chairs were kneading and vibrating at my lower back in all the right places. (PURE BLISS!) Then, the young girl beside me accidentally knocked her chosen nail polish off the arm of her chair. It was purple (like Phoenix Suns Purple). It fell to the floor and broke, while a color of purple that made my head spin, went flying in all directions - floor, chairs, ME! There was nothing to do. It happened so fast. I had no choice but to sit there, as bright, purple nail polish flung across my right leg and North Face flip-flops. Obviously, it was an accident, so there was no need in choking out the 15 year old beside me. (Plus, I am still young enough to totally rock out the purple polish on my jeans and shoes.) So, I chose to accept her apology and forget about it. (Her mother drives a Suburban. I may have followed them home, just incase I change my mind about forgetting.)
Upon leaving the nail salon, I ran several other mundane errands, which ended in a trip to Walmart. (In retrospect, I should have done this first, so that my day got better, not worse. Saving Walmart for last is a BAD idea.) Much like the past few days around here, today's weather had been unpredictable and flat out insane. (It goes from 85 and sunny to an unexpected and MASSIVE, 15 minute thunderstorm. Then, back to beautiful.) It was sunny, when I walked into Walmart, but there were dark clouds on the horizon. However, noting that I only had a few items on my list, I paid no mind and quickly ran inside.
My shopping trip was fairly uneventful (a nice change from the usual), until I was walking back to the front to find an available cashier. I had them in sight and was carefully choosing my lane. (This decision should never be made lightly. The wrong choice can add an extra 20 minutes to the hell that is Walmart.) As I was surveying the scene, walking past the various lanes that were lit up, a woman walked right up to me and asked, "Do you work here?" (*uncomfortable silence*) "Do I work here? Do I work HERE?! NO, YOU STUPID BITCH?! WHAT ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH WOULD MAKE YOU THINK THAT **I** WORK HERE?!?!" (Okay, I did not actually say that, but it is EXACTLY what I was thinking!) I, honestly, do not believe that I have ever been so insulted! I mean, I guess I could take it as a compliment. I am sure I looked like I knew what the eff was going on, as I walk swiftly and with a purpose in that place - but - seriously, "DO I WORK HERE?" I WOULD RATHER DIE A LONG AND PAINFUL DEATH, THAN TO WORK HERE IN DEPTHS OF HELL!! I realize I was not dressed to the nines (and not in Walmart Blue), but the fact that someone thought I looked like a Walmart employee was DEVASTATING!! Fortunately, I work with the public and am quick on my toes, so I politely (through gritted teeth) said, "No, Ma'am, I do not. However, I believe the gentleman dressed in the BLUE WALMART VEST DOES!"
Mind spinning out of control, I chose a lane and tried to mentally calm myself down. It was one of my favorite cashiers. (If it is possible to have a favorite anything in Hell.) She is friendly, but does not strike up a random and uncomfortable conversation. She does her job and gets you out of there. I thanked her, as she handed me the receipt, and headed for the exit.
When I arrived at the door, I realized that I had made a FATAL mistake! (There is really no other excuse.) I ALWAYS have an umbrella resting in the cargo space of my door. It is the first thing I see when I get in my vehicle and the first thing I see when I get out. WHY I did not grab the umbrella, I will never know. (Laziness? Stupidity? Egotisticalness?) (SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I CAN MAKE UP WORDS, IF I WANT TO! **MY** BLOG!!) BEHOLD, before me was a DOWNPOUR! (One of the crazy thunderstorms that have been happening, as of late.) I pulled my cart over to the side. (Uncertain why, as no one ever extends this same courtesy to me at Walmart.) I had to make a decision - wait it out in the doorway of Hell or make a run for it. I quickly decided I would rather get wet than burned, so I tied up my grocery bags and rolled up my jeans. I, then, tried to look throw the torrential downpour and find the aisle I was parked in. Once I was certain, I made a run for it. There I was, looking like a mental patient escaped from the ward, doing a weird run-hop thing, while wearing flip-flops, sporting freshly pedicured toes, and my right side covered in Clown Purple paint! By the time I got to my vehicle, which was conveniently parked at the VERY END, I was SOAKED!! I literally threw my bags in the back, pushed the cart into oblivion, and got in. I sat there, freezing, trying to collect myself (and my dignity).
Arriving at home, I unloaded my vehicle, put everything away, and started to cook dinner. Making dinner went off without a hitch. I had just finished about five minutes before my friend came to pick up my oldest for VBS. I called my daughter into the kitchen and told her to get on her shoes. As she walked away, I noticed something on the back of the shorts I had JUST put her in. Upon inspection, I realized she had sat in chocolate - of all things. (Consequent to further investigation, I discovered she had eaten a granola bar earlier in the day and one of the chips must have fallen to the ground, unnoticed. SOMEHOW, she found said chip and sat on top of it, TWO minutes before she had to leave.) After a frantic outfit change, I sent her out the door with my friend.
Being almost by myself (2 year old still in the house), I opted for a quiet dinner alone. Once I finished, I started to clean up. I opened the dishwasher to load the dishes I just used, to discover that my husband did NOT start the dishwasher last night, leaving me barely enough room to load the new, dirty dishes. Being irked, but not irate, I started to shift things about and find room for the majority of the dishes. However, while I was rinsing off one of the last bowls, the water created some sort of jet shooting action, swirled around the bowl, up into the air, and landed all over my shirt. (At this point, I was more than irked, but still breathing.) Grabbing the kitchen towel, I vaguely dried myself off.
During this time of madness and chaos, my WAS quiet toddler came up to me holding some sort of bobblehead cat. (I recognized it from the craft project my oldest was doing yesterday.) She was yelling something, which I could not hear over the jet sprays of water coming from my kitchen sink. I tried to shoo her away, but she just kept repeating herself. Finally, I leaned closer to the floor and her head and heard her say, "Wet, Mommy! Wet!"
"I know Mommy is wet, Honey. No big deal!"
"No, Mommy! Kitty wet! KITTY WET!"
Presuming that somehow the water that was all over me, the floor, and the sink also attacked the kitty, I grabbed it from her hands and told her that I would set it on the kitchen counter to dry. As I released the kitty, I felt something weird on my hands. It was like gel, but not. Wet, but not really. I looked down, but am uncertain what happened next. (I believe I went into a blind panic and fainted.) All I know, when I came to, there was what I can only describe as a GLITTER glue or something of the sort ALL OVER MY HANDS, MY KITCHEN SINK, MY TODDLER, AND THAT DAMNED KITTY!! (You all know from previous blogs that glitter is my arch nemesis. Glitter. Spiders. Clowns. In no particular order.) Naturally, this glue glitter substance sticks to you and surfaces like Herpes. (YOU.CAN.NEVER.GET.RID.OF.IT!)
After scalding my hand off with nuclear temperature water and scrubbing my kitchen sink until I bled, I decided I would feed my toddler and write this blog. Who would have guessed it?! Tonight is the night that my toddler is REFUSING to eat and has done nothing but SQUALLED the ENTIRE time I have been typing!! At one point, I even did my threatening "1-2-3 count," followed with "Are you done crying?" (They always whimper, through muffled tears, "Yes.") Tonight, though, NOPE! She actually said, "No, I not done crying." (Which, in truth, made me laugh.)
Now that I have finished, I am going to make myself a strong cocktail (maybe seven) and work diligently to scrub off the stickers I just now noticed on my kitchen table. (I have no doubt my toddler did this as a punishment for me ignoring her freak out, while demanding she eat her dinner, as I composed this blog.) In the end, I will probably leave them for my husband.
This is actually happening - right now.
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