The last few days have been eye-opening ones for me. This is not to say that I’ve actually learned anything. Oh, no! That would make far too much sense. My eyes have widened merely due to a vague sense of “Oh, crap.” But perhaps someone smarter than myself can glean some lessons from my experience. Or maybe you’ll just point and laugh. Either way.
1) Murphy’s Law holds that you will always be throwing away the packaging from chicken just after emptying the trash. Always. This is not a new happening; I can’t even pretend to be surprised that I approached the trash with a styrofoam tray and some saran overwrap–all dripping with chicken juice–only to discover the trash wasn’t anywhere near full. I knew I wouldn’t be emptying the trash anytime soon and still I wantonly flung these items in. Then, wasn’t I just so surprised when a day or two later, the trash began to stink? Why yes, I was. Did I take the trash out? No, of course not. Because the bag wasn’t full. It wasn’t even close to being full. And what’s a little bit of rancid chicken stink, anyway? I can hardly smell it!
2) Negotiating a swap at your new job of a Monday holiday for an upcoming day you’d rather take off guarantees illness on said holiday. On the bright side, no one else is going to be there, so I can pretty much stretch out at my desk with tissues jammed up my nose and drink tea and work at a snail’s pace. On the other hand, to ensure that I would have plenty to do, three different people assigned me “a few things” to take care of tomorrow. They’re doing me a favor, letting me float the holiday to a different day, so I feel like I should be extra-productive. If only I could unlock the secret of converting snot into caffeine, I’d be all set.
3) Speaking of illness, it strikes on a weekend when your to-do list is a mile long. I had plans, this weekend. Big plans! Many important plans! Wanna know what I did this weekend? I slept. Then I got up… and went back to bed. And slept some more. After that? I had some juice. And fell asleep. Etc. So the lesson here is to not goof off all week and plan to have a productive weekend, because that’s just an invitation for germs. A simple cold can turn your weekend plans into a narcoleptic’s paradise.
4) I don’t have to like it, but I have to accept it: Truths about Sunday nights after a weekend with Daddy. A) The children are overtired. B) Their suitcase will contain at least one item of clothing irrevocably damaged (stained or torn). C) Chickadee’s skin will be a complete mess. D) Monkey will tell me at least twice about something that Daddy will let them do because he is nicer. E) The entire evening will suck but I can put them to bed by 7:00 and no one will complain.
5) Don’t try this at home: Stupid things I did this week. A) Burned the top of my wrist with a cookie sheet. (No, don’t even bother asking. I have no idea.) B) Ripped a pair of my favorite pants by walking into the couch. (Don’t ask about that one either… the pocket got hooked onto the corner somehow. I don’t know.) C) Told my boss to bite me. (Everyone knows you should wait at least three weeks before you say that.) D) Ran into the drugstore across the street from church this morning to buy $4 worth of cold medicine with only $1 in my purse. (They let me charge it.)
The nice thing about this sort of Sunday is that the following week usually seems pretty good in comparison.
I have that trash problem, too, only ours doesn’t stink, it attracts one of our dogs who will then knock the can over and drag coffee grounds all over the kitchen (the only OTHER thing in the trash will be coffee grounds, plus whatever yummy smelling thing I’m about to toss)
Would you mind telling my boss to bite ME? Or even you? Thanks.
Hey… at least you won’t be sick on your planned day off, right?
You need a hug and some wine!!!
Your Sunday will probably beat the crap out of my Monday – feel better!
Had you been wearing The Boots, he probably would have given you a friendly nip.
For the lack of cash issue, get a checking account debit/Visa/MC from your bank. No more issues about not having cash, in most all cases.
OMG I thought I was the only one who keeps tissue jammed up their nose while they have a cold. In my house I do, anyway. OR DID. My LAST cold, My daughter got obsessed with it — called the tissues “Mommy’s PLOG” and asked endless questions about it (IS THAT YOUR PLOG, MOMMY? YOU GOTS A PLOG, MOMMY? WHY IS THAT A PLOG, MOMMY? on and on)and pointed at it (I SEE YOUR PLOG!) and kept trying to GET IT (CAN I HAVE YOUR PLOG, MOMMY?) Until I gave up and took it out.
I just need a little PLACE where me and my plog can BE ALONE.