Alarm goes off. I have it set to the classical music station, because
1) I can't handle bad news first thing in the morning;
2) I loathe morning djs;
3) I can't get my iHome to play my iPhone as an alarm; and
4) the guy who comes on at 6 kills me. He actually made an Arrested Development reference ["There's always money in the banana stand"] about classical music. I love him.
|George Michael and Maybe - the cutest incesty couple ever.|
I'm out of bed, I've peed, sucked back the Advair [making note of time and dose number, so I don't end up thinking I've double dosed myself and have to call the 24hour pharmacy, completely freaking out. AGAIN.], and I'm ready to get my shower on when I realize I need to check and see if the paper has been delivered, since it wasn't yesterday, and then I went online and got another delivered and then I got home and TA DA - 2 papers.
So I go out in the single digit weather in my nightgown and slippers because our USUAL paper delivery person puts it right on the porch next to the door, but we've got some passive aggressive person delivering the paper this week and it's halfway down the drive way. I get it and come back up to the porch to find:
THE DOOR WON'T OPEN.
I am out in the winter in a thin tshirt nightgown and fuzzy blue slippers trying to push the door handle thingy open but it's frozen shut. So I start pounding on the door, thinking,
THOSE RAT BASTARDS ARE STILL SLEEPING AND THEY ARE NEVER GOING TO WAKE UP AND I CAN'T EVEN GO AND POUND ON THEIR BEDROOM WINDOWS BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING UMPTY THOUSAND INCHES OF SNOW COVERING THE YARD.
And then the girl finally woke up and staggered into the living room and opened the door and I am really fucking sick of winter. I'm hearing good things about the west coast.
I go back to bed.
HAHAHA. I wish.
Instead, I do a 10 minute yoga thingy to try and calm down from my second near death experience involving snow in less than a week [read all about the first one here]. I finish my half-assed yoga and shower, taking time to wash my hair because, you know, it's so pretty.
Showered. Hair done. Dressed. Make up slapped on. Jewelry on [I've been wearing the same earrings and necklace for about a month now, even though I've got really cute stuff, because I am in a jewelry rut. Boo.].
I go back in the bathroom and see that I've left my deoderant on the sink and realize - I forgot to put it on. Debate just not wearing any, but realize that's not fair to anyone. Particularly me, who will be closest to the stench. Decide I'm not undressing and try and put deoderant on while wearing a bra, camisole, shirt and sweater [it is fucking cold as shit in my office]. I manage to do so, but it's a damn good thing I was wearing a white shirt, is all I'm saying.
Collect giant tote bag with paper & book and purse type stuff in it, giant insulated lunch tote with water, breakfast, lunch and snacks in it, grab keys, put on coat, tell husband and girl good bye, ask husband why he looks so out of sorts and find out that I'd used up all the hot water washing my hair.
How is this possible? We just got a new fucking water heater. My hair is giant, sure, but I hadn't realized it was so massive that I was ruining the ecosystem. Debate dreadlocks and realize I could not handle the filth.
Arrive at work after cursing and loathing the people who DON'T KNOW HOW TO FUCKING DRIVE.
Read the paper.
Go to Kohl's during my lunch [which I took late to make the end of my day go quicker] to find some cute socks, only to find that they are renovating. I debate running away, because my anxiety + possibility of renovation germs & debris = OMG THE HORROR. I tell myself I'll be ok [LOOK, a woman is bringing her BABY in here. It's safe!] and rush to get my socks [no cute ones, only lame work type socks] and some new underwear for the husband even though it's WAY on the other side of the store, near more debris spewing renovation.
I pay up and leave and spend the next hour worried I've got some toxic asbestos something or other slathered on me. I check my face in the cute pocket mirror in my purse and calm myself - there's no debris there, nothing is swelling or empurpling.
There is, however, a giant chin hair.
I hit the bathroom with my trusty tweezers and get rid of that posthaste.
I leave work, thankful that my mother is at my house, making dinner for me and my family and watching the girl and her friend since the husband and I are both working late. She's even folded laundry, she tells me!
I start cursing shitty drivers.
I get home.
Put a load of dishes in the dishwasher because my mother has made a ton of food and there is going to be at least 2 loads [I will not wash by hand, thanks.].
Sort laundry & start washing the girl's uniform, because she has karate tomorrow and she probably shouldn't stink - I think they mean something different by overpowering your opponent.
Eat dinner with the girl and her friend, putting away the food and deciding I really don't want to do another load of dishes. Maybe these can just stay here?
Check blog comments. Am full of joy to find that it's o.k. to love Turk and JD! They really ARE awesome!
Start thinking about a blog post. Realize I've got nothing. Start writing this.
Husband comes home. Tell him I'm writing a blog post. He says, "LOL JK, baby!"