Holy Bad Day

First of all, if you’re looking for some laughs, don’t read this post. Read this instead:


It was a dark and stormy day. The kind of day you remember that thing, that, if you’d remembered it on February 1st, you would have saved yourself $400. The kind of day where you realize that all that Life Progress you thought you’d made in the past year was imaginary, because everything in life looks exactly like it did a year ago, when you made the same $400 mistake. It’s the kind of day where that $400 becomes the tip of the iceberg. Finally, its the kind of day where you look back at all those glimmers of light at the end of the tunnel that you thought you were seeing over the last year and realize they were just sparks from your failed breaking system and the end of the tunnel is a brick wall.

Holy bad day.

And, I was still sick, but my little plan from yesterday didn’t work. I skipped steps 1 and 2. Steps 3 and 4 didn’t cut it, 6 worked for breakfast but wasn’t feasible afterward because 4 sick days mean you run out of cereal.

The problem with step 5: What I forgot when I wrote it was that anytime you lie down anywhere in sight of young children, they see it as an invitation to sit on you and pretend you’re a beast of burden, bouncing merrily on your crumpled body. As I sought a few minutes of laying down, all fevered and congested and surrounded by tissue wads, I was mercilessly accosted by a 3 YO and an 18 MO and bounced upon endlessly. However, I look back on that as the highlight of my day.

On step 7, at the end of the day, I totally did freak out about the mess (after stewing panicked for hours in the vague issues listed above) so I accomplished it through yelling, not treats. Well, not really, because as I yelled and they cleaned, the panic that had welled up in me set me right to work to stop the emotional bleeding. With the speed, dexterity and intense focus of an ER surgeon, I had a pan of brownies in the oven in seconds flat. Of course, the kids won’t be seeing any of those.

And now, all the kids are in bed, but I can’t follow step 8 because now I need to spend the evening coming up with a whole new Life Plan. And thanks to a little program called TurboTax it may also involve a sudden, clandestine relocation to Canada.

So, if you read this post despite the warning, do yourself a favor and go over and read this post anyway, it will make you laugh.


1 reply
  1. dietcokegrrl
    dietcokegrrl says:

    I’m so sorry about the awful, terrible, no-good, bad day!!

    I know it all totally sucks, but it will somehow be okay. It has to be or I am doomed as well…

    I love you and am here to help with whatever you need. And hey, Canada would be lucky to have you. 🙂 I’ll even come visit you up there!


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