It should be impossible to be as cranky as I was, yesterday, for longer than a day. Theoretically, I mean. But as we’ve previously discussed, I am quite gifted. At least when it comes to spectacular bottoming-out of the moods. My funks may modify and adapt here and there, but I’m pretty good at the sustained grumpiness thing.
So! This morning was spectacular. I don’t even remember what happened. All I know is that one minute I was bellowing “EAT. YOUR. BREAK. FAST!” for the forty-seventh time, and the next thing I knew I was standing there with a little cup of Del Monte mandarin oranges in my hand delivering a sermon of epic proportions. It would have been a thing of beauty if I wasn’t more or less venting my spleen in a batshit crazy manner. The children fell silent and listened to my missive in awe… not so much because of the power of my words, no, but more because they correctly surmised there was a excellent chance of my head spontaneously combusting.
“You BEGGED me to buy these for you. These were your FAVORITE FOOD in the ENTIRE WORLD and you CRIED when I didn’t buy them so I bought them and I stocked up when they were ON SALE and now you DON’T LIKE THEM?? What does that even MEAN? One day you loved mandarin oranges and the next day an alien landed here from MARS and sucked all of the orange-liking brain molecules from out of your HEAD? So now I packed them for you for snack and instead of eating them you ASKED YOUR TEACHER FOR FOOD like I had just NEGLECTED to pack you something? FINE. FINE. I will NEVER pack you mandarin oranges EVER AGAIN. Pardon ME. But PLEASE don’t tell me you want something SPECIFIC from now on because I am NEVER buying you something SPECIAL since you can apparently just RANDOMLY DECIDE not to LIKE it any more!”
Yep, that’s pretty much how it went. I doubt you’ll be able to find it in the Annals of Excellent Parenting so be sure to get a good eyeful, here. Insanity caused by snack cup. I’m sorry, Your Honor. It was the oranges.
That, of course, set us up quite well for what followed, which was a post-breakfast sibling skirmish wherein I declined to hear either side but reprimanded them both; and then both of them were crying by the time we struggled out the door and caught the bus already waiting. Yay!
After dropping Monkey I decided that–to help lift my spirits–I would go get a cup of real coffee. The coffee place right near his school is inexplicably closed, so I drove further down the road to a relatively new, hip coffeehouse. Perhaps if it was a pick-me-up I was seeking, I should’ve known better than to walk into such a place in my usual “bus run” outfit (polarfleece top and sweats). Oh well. I’m sure all those dirty looks were just because those people lead horrible lives, and not because I wasn’t wearing a bra. The paralysis that overtook me when faced with the Big Board O Drinks led me to blurt out an order for chai when I really wanted coffee, but without caffeine in my system I wasn’t quick enough on my toes to rectify the error. No matter. I got my nice frothy steamed milk in there, so that was fine.
Once home, I sipped my chai, ate some toast, and started getting ready for my interview. At which time my computer decided to have a complete nervous breakdown. I entertained the idea for myself, as well, but instead spent two hours getting my resume to print while thinking up new swear words. That’s a great way to get the blood pumping, by the way. Yeah. I showered, I dressed (all my clothes fit today, thanks for asking), I assembled my things. I hit the road.
I got lost. I drove past my destination. I did make in there in time, but between the computer problems and my scenic route I suspect my eye was twitching just a little. Not that anyone would’ve noticed that because I was looking so fabulous! And my pants were staying on so nicely, and everything! And… and… my earrings! Are so SHINY!
In a rare moment of clarity, I paused in the car before I headed in to my interview. I took a deep breath. I reminded myself that–current mood notwithstanding–this was an opportunity not to be taken for granted. Let the rest go, do what you came here to do. If all else fails… blind them with the shiny earrings. Yes.
Given the nature of the position and the fact that this is neither horseshoes nor hand grenades, I won’t say much. What I will share is that I learned there were over 70 applicants; about a dozen were granted interviews; as of my slot (and I’m not sure where I fell in the mix) only one other had been granted a final interview. I was also asked to return. If you are so inclined, please do think fluffy bunny happy rainbow thoughts, but quietly, so as not to rile the fates who have nasty senses of humor. It may be a few weeks before I have more news and until then I will be tiptoeing around trying not to spill any bad karma on myself.
I’ve already gotten a head-start on pleasing The Powers That Be with my incredible maturity and restraint because of this exchange after my interview:
Chirpy Voice: Welcome to Taco Bell, would you like to try a value combo today?
Me: No thanks, can I please just get a chicken quesadilla?
Chirpy Voice: Chicken quesadilla? Would you like that in a value combo with a taco and a drink?
Me: Nope, just the quesadilla.
Chirpy Voice: Very good, any sauce with that?
Me: No thank you.
Chirpy Voice: And would you like to buy a Border Somethingorother Card that gives you money off with the purchase of each value combo?
Me: No thank you.
Chirpy Voice: Anything else?
Me: No thank you.
Chirpy Voice: Please have $2.58 ready at the window.
A weaker woman would’ve screamed “GIMME MY DAMN QUESADILLA!” by the second sentence, you know. I so deserve that job. I am a saint.