How is it that it’s possible to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual, to wake your KIDS up 20 minutes earlier than usual, and STILL be skidding into the school parking lot disgorgement area with mere seconds to spare?
Not only that, but one kid’s tae kwon do uniform, which he SAID he had ready last night, was in reality in the WASHING MACHINE (it’s apparent that we need to work on what ‘ready’ means), and the other kid’s lunch was still on the kitchen table after he lovingly packed it up and promptly forgot to take it with him. Good thing HE had cash on hand, for I was not in a position to save his middle-school bacon this morning.
No, this morning was not how I’d envisioned it when I woke up 20 minutes earlier than usual. Then again, hardly anything ever IS how I envision it. Accepting that bit of revelation has been rather freeing. Not much to do but shrug and hope for a better plan tomorrow morning.
Plus which? It rained this morning. The direct result of which was that people stopped remembering how to drive like an AMERICAN. My God, it was like trying to navigate through Rome (which I’ve heard is very very bad for driving), what with the sudden weaving in and out of lanes, the abrupt application of brakes, the general chaos that results from fair-weather drivers being hypnotized by the pulse of windshield wiper blades.
People (I wanted to shout), it’s just rain. It’s not like we’re completely unfamiliar with the concept. As a matter of fact, it’s been wetter around these parts lately than it’s been in the almost 4 years I’ve lived here. You’d think that a degree of recent experience with the rain might have established some comfort level in the local driving population, but it’s like instead of it being WATER falling, people drive like thumbtacks are dropping from the sky. Swervsy-swerve, stomp on brakes, here comes a RAINDROP! Lose your mind!
In other Grumbly McGrouchypants news, I would like to make this statement public:
I HATE YOU, UTERUS.
Months and months have passed since I last thought about having ‘supplies’ for Aunt Flo’s visits, months have gone by with nary a hot flash or swimmy head, months have passed since I thought about maybe NOT wearing the tan pants today. They have been good months, happy months, free and easy months.
And yet, from all appearances, those months are over. Somehow, for some reason or another, the stupid effing hormones that I THOUGHT had finally dried up to a trickle have somehow been turned ON again. What the knuckle-cracking HELL!
Hello bloat – I didn’t miss you. And Hi achy back, you bitch. And hey, pimples! Who let YOU back in? It shoudl come as no surprise that I am more than a tiddle grouchy about this turn of events, and so will pray HARD that the first signs and symptoms are mere abberations of reality, that in fact I am NOT going to get a-menstruating again, that really this thing was the very last hurrah from my princess parts to me, a small hand-wave over the horizon, if you will.
Won’t you pray for me too?
Much appreciated, and have a wonderful day.
(PS - the rain has stopped. Things are looking up!)