In a rush to secure a gift for the love of your life, you call specific stores with desired item on sale only to find the last one to be sold “just minutes” before your alarmingly boisterous arrival. This was hours after your initial plea of ‘can you save it for me?’ only to be told ‘no’. Fuckers. So fearing impending doom and total catastrophic disappointment from the love of your life, you flee to the netherworlds of town to secure desired item. You find it! It barely squeezes into backseat of car. Meanwhile, D1 is lamenting that you were unable to pick her up from her job so she asked the love of your life for a ride who calls you 7 times in attempts to reach you only to be promptly ignored. And when finally you answer you hear this: ‘why the hell am I paying 65.00 a month for a cell phone that you don’t answer?!’ to which you respond ‘she could have walked to a Tim’s and waited it’s a nice day’ to which he states ‘what Tim’s there isn’t one close’ to which you promptly hang up. You then drop D2 off at rowing 15 minutes late which is devastating since she’s the coach and is responsible to show a good example to the ‘young people’ and now has to do laps in response to her lateness. Gee mom, you pretty much suck. Then, you rush to rescue D1 from the hockey arena that D2 said she was impatiently waiting at since the love of your life had to pick her up from her job since that job equals death and waiting any more than five extra minutes could be as painful as having your toenails removed one-by-one by a monkey high on crack, AND the love of your life had to take son to hockey hence the whole arena thing, only to find that she is home and has been home for some time now and if you had answered your fucking phone you would have known that and not have found that out by the time you were half way to an arena at which none of your family were even located. To which you proudly display said perceived ‘desired item’ in the livingroom after having to secure a hernia in the process of extracting item from the backseat of your Corrolla only to have the love of your life proclaim, upon his arrival home, it’s not as desired as perceived. Bastard.
AND THEN THE NEXT DAY, you dump a whole bottle of coffee cream on the floor of your car, and a strong odor of Hazelnut permeates the interior. In attempts to squelch that odor and the impending sour-milk-from-the-depths-of-a-nauseated-baby-smell, you erroneously decide to mop up said dairy product with paper towels and a Lysol-soaked rag. Now the car smells like Hazelnut infused Lysol. Pleasant.
THE DAY AFTER THAT, having not had the opportunity to purchase more Hazelnut heavenly goodness in which to put in your morning coffee since you were busy doing OTHER PEOPLE’S laundry, preparing supper, cleaning shit up and planning an epic holiday, you ask three family members early in the morning to assist in said purchase only to be told that it would ‘make them late for work’. So, only one cup of morning coffee. All the damned day.
Grumpy. As. Shit.
Hope you are having a fucking awesome day. Love and hugs to all.