My day? You want to know about my day? My day was JUST PEACHY.
Actually, there was nothing about my day that was truly a debacle. There was no blood, no catastrophe… Chickadee didn’t even have a single time-out. (I’m aware that to complain is somewhat petty. But I always say play to your strengths, and one of my strengths is whining.)
Still, it was one of Those Days. One of the days when you find yourself wondering—over and over—if getting out of bed this morning was really worth the effort. (Answer: Well, the kids probably would’ve gotten hungry, if I hadn’t.)
We started things off with a bang this morning with the discovery that our phone was still dead. It died yesterday… sometime… I don’t know when, I only know that I didn’t get any calls all day. So. I reported the problem online, and it said that it would be fixed by last night. Guess what! It wasn’t! It was still broken today!
Guess what else! My cell phone works great, everywhere except inside my house! So here I was spending my SECOND day with no phone service, like the Swiss Family Robinson! Except with a cable modem! Accordingly, I tried to email the PTA person I’m supposed to be coordinating with. My mail was bounced back to me because that server only accepts mail written in Western Character sets. I had no idea my mail wasn’t up to standard. Next time I shall add a cowboy hat, maybe.
So, the phone was dead, but who cares, because we have Things To Do. Like, I had a doctor’s appointment. And the sitter was unavailable, but I got the kids up and fed and out the door and was feeling very pleased with myself. Yep, I was Superwoman!
Though it turns out that an appointment card and two telephone reminders aren’t enough to keep Superwoman on schedule when she’s somehow decided her appointment is half an hour later than it truly is. Whoops!
(But, you know, at least it was a follow-up appointment for the mammogram I had last week, which I had assumed was normal, and then later I got a letter in the mail saying I require ANOTHER 6-month follow-up. I certainly was glad I’d missed my appointment and been rescheduled for weeks from now, then. Yessiree.)
Oh, I almost forgot. You probably want a Phil update, too. (You people are very chatty when it comes to zit remedies, by the way.) Phil is still holding steady, despite the many and varied remedies I’m throwing his way. I am feeling discouraged and afflicted, so Otto—who is the epitome of compassion—offered to buy a BELT SANDER before my next visit. So that he can help me out. Wasn’t that sweet? Do you think I might get more flowers out of that one? Because I am totally thinking I need flowers or something sparkly, after that remark.
So, after driving to the doctor’s appointment that wasn’t, I thought we’d stop at the kids’ consignment store and pick up the things Monkey will be needing for soccer. Because soccer starts tomorrow night. Fortunately, they had shin guards and those super-tall doofy socks for cheap. Woohoo! Unfortunately, Monkey they spent the next 2 hours telling me that he doesn’t know how to play soccer and maybe he shouldn’t play. When I assured him that they would TEACH him how, he switched tactics; probably he couldn’t run with those THINGS on his legs, you know. (Telling him that those THINGS would keep his shins from being broken didn’t impress him much.)
Back home again, a box arrived. From Skechers! It must be the new shoes we ordered for school! Alas, it was only Chickadee’s new shoes; Monkey’s shipped from a different warehouse and aren’t here yet. I braced myself for the force of the injustice to strike. Lucky for me, the children managed to get bickering about something else entirely before Monkey could wind himself up into a fit about the shoes.
Then ANOTHER box arrived. It was the birthday present I bought myself (with my birthday money, because yes, apparently I just turned 12) last week. I was SO EXCITED.
[You see, last week I posted this, lamenting that I could not afford the great deal being offered on this (which was even cheaper last Friday). And then I thought about it for a while and checked to see what I had laying around in Amazon gift certificates and what I had in birthday money and decided DAMMIT, I AM BUYING MYSELF A ROBOT. I have been wanting one ever since I bought one for Kira and I decided this was the right time to make it happen.]
My robot arrived in a big box and I shrieked like a little girl and took pictures and lovingly unpacked it and plugged it in to charge and read the manual and took some more pictures and possibly tongue-kissed it and then turned it on for a test run.
I think my robot is broken.
The sadness, it is LARGE.
Anyway, I will attempt to clean his sensors tomorrow and perhaps remove the brushes and wave them around a bit and see if any of that absolves it of the need to stop and start and stop and start and go around the same point in circles, inbetween. But my hopes are not high. And the only thing sadder than spending four hours deciding whether or not you truly deserve a roomba is finally ordering one and having it be DEFECTIVE. There oughtta be a law, I tell you what.
Then tonight, my dishwasher stopped, mid-cycle. For no apparent reason. I finally figured out that the circuit tripped, and I reset it and the dishes finished getting clean, but given the way the rest of the day had gone, it didn’t bode well. I know I might be being paranoid, but just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean that everything and everyone ISN’T out to get me.
I am hoping that tomorrow goes more smoothly. Or that I will have the fortitude to just stay in bed and tell the kids to make the pop-tarts last. Either way.