Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Roadchick and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Day

Y'all, it's just been one of "those" days. (Although nothing really horrible happened. Roadchick exaggerates sometimes. No, really.)

What does one of "those" days look like in the life of Roadchick? Well, just let the 'chick tell you all about it. (You knew that she would anyway...)

First of all, it's Tuesday which is much too far from Friday for any hope. It's DAYS away from Friday. Not even a little sniff of Friday to lead you onward. It's Tuesday.

Second of all, the 'chick did not get home until 11:00 last night because she was with Redneck. Now, before you jump to any sort of conclusions - you are WRONG. It was WWE Monday Night Raw Wrestling night. At Skaterboy's request. 11:00 is not so very late, you are saying, and usually, Patient Reader, you would be right. However, (isn't there always a however in these stories???) last night, 11:00 was much too late for the 'chick because...she left Redneck's house at 9:00 last night. She had to pick up Rockboy and his friend from band practice at a house so far off the interstate that it's entirely possible it was in a different time zone or possibly even on another continent. Have you done the math, people? That is 2 hours. 2 hours in the car on a MONDAY night. Ugh. 1 hour of it spent with surly, tired, smelly teenaged boys. (Actually, they were not really surly although they were tired and smelly. Roadchick was the surly one in the car.)

So, back to Tuesday. The 'chick had to get up at 5:30, which is standard getting up time in her world. But, ugh. It was raining. Rainy days are days to stay in bed and nap and watch TV and knit. Not days to get up and get ready for work.

Then there was the morning clothes dilemma. Most of the time, this is not an issue but on the days when it is an issue, the 'chick's bedroom and closet look like Filene's Basement after the $1.99 wedding dress sale before she finally manages to emerged fully clothed. Oy vey! It was one of those mornings. She had decided on a skirt, then promptly forgot which skirt she had decided on and pulled the wrong one out and stood looking at it like it was from Mars. Then realized that it was NOT the skirt o' the day and put it back. (She was still hanging things up at this point.) The correct skirt was retrieved and put on. Now, to find a top. Yeah, right. Any guesses on how many blouses, sweaters, t-shirts, and tops were tried? Any guesses at all? Roadchick will have to double check when she gets home but it seems to be around seven. SEVEN. That is flat ridiculous, y'all. Stupid ridiculous.

It was staff meeting day at work. Staff meeting day with a baby shower thrown in for added torture. Y'all know how the 'chick feels about baby showers but at least this one did not involve dirty diaper nametags. Staff meeting day is a guarantee that nothing else productive will happen in the 'chick's office for the rest of the day. Hence, this post. At least it sounds like she is busy working when in reality she's desperately trying to digest lunch and a whopping slice of fresh strawberry baby shower cake. No food tonight. None. Maybe just a refreshing glass of Alka Seltzer.

And, it's cold in here. Freezing cold. See your breath cold. So cold that it's agony, really. Add that in with the rain and it's miserable. But, also funny because with the temperature / humidity differential, the windows are fogged up like a Waffle House at 3:00 a.m. That's when you hope that your space heater is working and hasn't been stolen by another freezing co-worker.

But now, at least it's almost time to go home. Home to put on pajamas, snuggle into the couch and knit for awhile. Rockstar:Supernova is on tonight and the 'chick is addicted to that. Go Dilana!!! And maybe, just maybe, a visit from Redneck. Good things await . . . only 20 minutes away.


Kim G. said...

Hang in there. Friday is a commin' - really - at least that's what my calendar says . . .

I'm right there with ya on the tired out, want to nap, just leave me on the couch and throw me a few morsals of food kind of feeling. But, alas, it's soccer practice tonight - who am I kidding, with two kids, it's soccer practice EVERY night of the week!

Pacian said...

I'm afraid, as terrible as your terrible day was, your heartwarming final paragraph means that I shall be dispensing my limited supply of sympathy somewhere else, perhaps on a timid kitten.