|Job's got nothing on me
||[Oct. 29th, 2008|02:28 pm]
Here's why I'm sometimes crabbier than you'd think I should be...|
It was a crappyass day, no mistaking it. Things that were supposed to happen, didn't happen. Things that weren't supposed to happen, did happen. Felicitiousness was in short supply, let me tell you.
But finally it was time to head home -- escape! And back to Halloweenland, where there were pumpkins to be carved and monster heads to be foamed, newsletters to be printed and distributed.
And frabjous joy, traffic was a relative breeze! And that, my friend, was the end of the good.
I'd left late, so even though traffic was easy, I pretty much got home just as Percy was taking a whizz on the stairs - it was raining and the rain stresses him out, since any MINUTE it could thunder and he has to be primed and ready for the panic. Luckily, it was mostly on his pee pad, so, another breeze, cleaning that up.
I take him out for a walk, come back in to change and see if I can find my cell phone, which has gone walkabout, on vibrate, before it's time to meet Brad at the train. I change, come downstairs, promptly step sockfooted, into a patch of cat puke. Upstairs I go again, new socks. I give up on the phone search, load Percy into the car, since it's blowing and cold as hell and the Captain's been feeling iffy healthwise and I don't want it to bloom.
Dum-da-dum. That's when I notice, driving to the station, that all of the Scary Perry signs, including the required "Road Closed" signs have been torn away by the high winds. F-ing great. Let me add another hour and a half of making and putting up signs to my list of things to to.
I get the station. No Captain. We drive back. Get back into the house, search for my phone again to see what the hell happened to the Captain. I started out the day by driving him and RegineAubergine to the metro, since the trains and buses were either not running or running so far behind that it was pointless to wait. Still can't find the phone. Fine, I'll break down and use the landline. Except of course, the f-ing cats have knocked the receiver off and the battery is dead. So, I stomp (yes, we've reached the "stomping" part of my patience) downstairs to fetch the old-fashioned manual Princess Phone.
And as I come back into the living room, step in ANOTHER patch of cat puke, ruining yet ANOTHER pair of clean socks. Patience has abandoned me and left me with only screaming harridan temper tantrum as company. So, we kick up a fuss, sending dog and cats scampering for their "safe" places. Stomp upstairs again, new socks. Downstairs to call Captain.
But I don't really remember his phone number do I? Fatal collision between new cell phone technology and old brain failure. And my notebook that's got everyone's numbers in it....at work. Expletive adverb, expletiveadjective, expletive gerund, expletive object. (Gee, Mrs. K, I guess those sentence diagramming worksheets were finally useful after all...)
Surely, I have a business card, a...maybe out in the car...why can't I find my f-ing phone? Oh, look, it's time for the second train to show up. I'm sure he's probably on that. I'll just drive over to the station...load up dog, yada, yada, you, of course, dear reader can read the foreshadowing on the wall and know full well that there is no way in hell the Captain is stepping off that train, don't you?
Yes, well, what kind of a doomed heroine would I be if I heeded the soundtrack and didn't make the useless trip to the station. On the way back, I decide that now I deserve Chinese Food for dinner, since it's near 7:30 and not only have I not gotten a damn Halloween thing done, but there is no way I'm making dinner. Because I have worked myself up into a fury that made the winds seem tame. And worse because there was no one or no object to direct it to.
I will spare you the half an hour of tearing both car and house apart looking for the expletive phone and the expletive phone number. And the various injuries, broken items that came from it and the bruise from the wind slamming my car door shut on me.
I pack away enough of the fury to make the GREEN go away, and trot over to the neighbor's where they DO have the Captain's phone number and I finally do manage to reach him and make arrangements to pick him up at metro, since the trains have failed again.
And once again, astute reader, you've probably already guessed that on the way to the metro, Percy got caught up in some twine that I left in the back of the wagon, which cause some freaking out, yelping and pulling over to the side of the road. And then we arrived at the metro station, where I spent a good ten minute, feltlikeanhour, sweating out whether the Captain had said Glenmont, Forest Glen or Wheaton. Thankfully, I picked right and really from then on, other than having to drive the entire way to the Chinese restaurant behind a towtruck hauling a minivan very, very, very slowly, the rest of the evening was just fine, if a mite unproductive.
I just wish I could say "wow, what a night!" But sadly, it just sort of feels damn near typical.