So let me tell you how my day was.
It started with an argument with the corp office of my bug spraying company. (We don't have bugs...I want to keep it that way. I hate creepy crawlies!) I called them last week to let them know that my service for this month needed to be in the morning because my afternoons are crazy busy lately. They scheduled me for a noon-5pm slot.
I get a voicemail on Sunday from the service tech saying he can't make it in the morning and he will be here early afternoon on Monday. That's great except I WON'T BE HERE! He didn't leave a number to reach him (even better) so I had to call corp to tell them to hunt him down to tell him that if he was switching it to PM he needed to be here between certain hours. The guy at corp argued with me that they don't set official times. Well you should tell the lady in scheduling that! And that's fine but my kid isn't missing school for the bug guy to come, so I flat out won't be here when its time to take her to school.
He finally agreed to let the tech know.
Next was my trip to the grocery. Now mind you...we're in the midst of the "4 month wakeful". Little man is sleeping like crap. I'm sleeping like crap. My birth control is wreaking havoc with my hormones and giving me migraines which always seem to hit at night when little man IS sleeping...so I'm running on negative 18.12.6 hours of sleep or some multiple of that! You could say I'm bitchier than normal (scary, I know!).
I get there and the lot is like...freakin FULL except the handicapped spots which I have enough decency not to park in as I am only handicapped in the unable to function without sleep way...not so much in the walking way (unless you count being a klutz). Plus don't even get me started on my feelings about non-handicapped people claiming to be handicapped (flash back to the Spring Sing post, anyone?!?) Oh and total side track...I see that guy all the time in town. I have never once seen him with a walker, cane, or even a limp and his vehicle does not have a handicapped tag or sticker...but I frequently see him in the middle of the day sitting on the sidewalk with an open case of beer so I'm going with...falling down drunk and hurting yourself does NOT make you handicapped. Yeah I could be wrong, but TS!
So back to the story. YES, I park in the "new and expectant mothers" spot anytime I have little man and the rest of my brood with me. I have only, in 2 years of shopping there, seen one other woman park there with her big ole belly...and regardless, I'm a fairly new mother with a total of 4 kids. Judge away, I'm not going to stop parking there just yet. But these spaces were even taken up!!! Damn. I'm in a rush to get home before the bug guy's 2pm time slot I gave them...little guy is fussy, now I get to park in no man's land.
So of course, I park like 5 spots away from the new/expectant spot and in the time it takes me to collect my list, collect my money, collect my thoughts & keys and get moving-the spaces between me and that spot have opened up. Le Sigh! I get out of the car and see a 200 yr old man sitting in his pick up in the new/expectant mother parking space. He has a handicapped tag hanging from his mirror. Never mind that handicapped get closer spaces than mothers (as they SHOULD...no complaints there) but this guy has completely ignored the handicapped spaces and parked in MY spot!! GRRRR! Just as I'm getting little man and his 100 lb car seat out, an old woman walks up to the passenger door of the truck. She literally GLARED at me as I lugged Moose & seat out of the car and grunted. GLARED...AT ME!! Like my grunting was irritating her. It just hit me wrong.
I looked up and smiled and said (super enthusiastically), "Oh my God! Congratulations!!"
She looked confused and said, "What's that?"
I pointed to the sign and said, "I said Congratulations! It's not ever day someone your age decides to start a family. You must be very excited for the stork to come!"
She didn't see any humor in it. But I did. I hit the lock button on my car and started for the door. She turned to me and said "I'm handicapped!" I looked back and said "And apparently your husband can't read! Rough life!"
Ok. Flame me if you want. It was rude. I claim she started it by glaring at me.
So groceries done, pulling in the drive way...guess who's there!
You got it!! The bug guy!
I get out of my car. Mentally grumbling that I need time to get the house opened up, the dog locked outside, the groceries in...all of which is going to be rushed or have to wait now...OH and mind you, its 1:36pm.
He actually had the nerve to tell me he'd been waiting for almost 20 minutes. I raised an eyebrow and just calmly said, "Wow, imagine how long you would have been waiting if I hadn't gotten here until 2pm like this was scheduled for!"
Unlock the door. Put baby in car seat on floor. Grab dog and lock her outside. Rush back to front door. Pick up baby. Let bug guy in. Take baby in car seat to front porch so as not to breathe the spray fumes. Get groceries...really? Is there a place for me to bang my head now...or should I wait?
Don't worry. It gets better. The story that is, not my day!
On the last bag of groceries, I grabbed little guy and his car seat in my left hand. Groceries in right. As I can into the kitchen the grocery bag...plastic...ripped. NO it couldn't be the bag of bread. It was the bag of jars of spaghetti sauce! OH YES! EFFING AWESOME! So one hits the ground JUST right...and off pops the lid. A shower of spaghetti sauce spatters my kitchen.
CEILING?!?!? SON OF A ...!!!
Wait...I have visual aids!!
It's awesome, isn't it?!?!?
So what do I do? In my mad rush, with the baby wanting a bottle and the bug guy taking his time and peanut gallerying his way through the house...I clean it up of course! Which resulted in this:
See those streaks...Yeah... I used Clorox Clean up...WITH BLEACH!!!
This is where I bang my head on the wall.
Deep breaths. Count to something...
What's next, Oh the bug guy is done. Sweet relief I can at least have my house to myself (well and Moose, and the dog, and the cat, but close enough!) I had a slew of papers to sign, we cancelled the spray service over winter so I was re-upping my contract with them. As I'm signing the cancellation agreement, I glance up at the tech who is rambling on a million miles an hour about the terms & services and realize that though he was reciting everything as it should be, he was really focused quite solidly on my cleavage.
Without even thinking twice, I stood up straight, snapped my fingers in his face and said "HEY! Yes, they're real. Yes, they're phenomenal. Yes, if my husband saw you gawking at them, he'd punch you in the face! FOCUS BUDDY!"
He wrapped up the paper signing very quickly and without even looking me in the face again! My floor is also phenomenal, apparently.
I have to admit that the rest of the day went OK, not great. A small run in with a bee and some homework troubles. Nothing we couldn't handle. So the look my husband got when he asked how my day was...the look of, Don't Even Freakin Ask! said all that I needed to say and more. He never did get the fill in on everything...bet he will laugh when he reads this.