Monday, Monday, can’t trust that day
Monday, Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Monday mornin’ you gave me no warnin’ of what was to be
Oh Monday, Monday, how could you leave and not take me
Yeah … So I had one of “those” days yesterday. In fact, it was so much one of “those” days that it continued all the way through today. I’m hoping Wednesday Wednesday won’t be more of the same. Because, let me tell ‘ya: Life has been annoying!
It’s not like any huge, major, terrible thing happened. On the contrary, things have continued puttering along fairly well in my corner of the universe. I try to remember this when I feel myself getting more and more annoyed with life. Overall, I’m healthy. Still feeling like crudola from the whole Prednisone incident, but, overall, healthy. My family, other than a small cold my husband seems to have caught, is also healthy. My daughter is happy. My dogs are happy. Big picture: Life is Good.
It’s the small picture that has bogged me down over the last couple of days. I can’t point to any one, huge, major mishap as the source of my internally grumpy mood. But there have been a series of little things. Just one little, annoying thing after another, until my camel is buried under a whole stack of straws.
Yesterday started off quite well. I woke up feeling marginally more human than I had over the weekend. I had slept fairly well on Sunday night. I was able to sit up and stand up without feeling like I would immediately fall over. This was a definite improvement. I managed to get up at a decent time. I got out the door and took a walk to enjoy the Fall sunshine. It was a lovely day. For about an hour and a half, I felt really great about myself, the universe, and life in general.
But then, my walk ended, and I headed home. Actually, I decided to meet a friend for breakfast. I headed out to our designated restaurant, and I was (in my mind) about halfway there before I realized I was going down the wrong street. Basically, the map in my head told me I was on one street when I was on a different street altogether. And the street I was on would never get me to the restaurant where I was supposed to meet my friend. Have I mentioned that the map in my head SUCKS? Yeah, it does. I pulled over to text her that I would be about ten minutes late. I laugh now at how silly I was, but, at the time, I had no idea. As soon as I could, I turned down a street that would get me headed in the right direction. And wouldn’t you know it … There was construction. I picked THE ONE street that had construction and backed up traffic on it. After that, I hit every red light. And then ran into a stalled truck and another one-lane street with terribly backed-up traffic. I ended up being 30 minutes late. My poor friend was sitting in the restaurant for so long that I think the wait staff had given up on her or something.
After lunch, I hit Ulta and managed to find two polishes I’ve been looking for from the OPI Holiday Breakfast at Tiffany’s Collection. This was a major score, as I’ve been searching for these for a while, but they are always sold out. On the way home, I managed to drop both bottles in my car. They rolled under the seat and got stuck. When I bent down to get them out, I managed to drop one bottle onto my driveway, where it bounced once and promptly rolled under my car. Luckily, it didn’t break. But I’m sure I looked like a complete weirdo crawling under my car on my hands and knees in order to get my precious polish bottle. I dropped the bottles two more times on my way into the house. Honestly, I have no idea how they stayed whole and unbroken.
Then, my downstairs toilet stopped working. It nearly overflowed, causing me to do the “dance of panic” as I frantically tried to remove the lid and close the flapper inside the tank. Crisis sort of averted, but plunging caused gross water to spill out onto the floor, anyhow. And almost on my house shoes. Yuck. I spent the rest of the evening trying to coax the toilet into working without getting more ick on my bathroom floor. I plunged enough so that it drained down. I tried the dish soap and hot water trick. When that didn’t work (but it, again, very slowly drained down), I tried the dish soap and water trick again. No luck. The toilet remained stubbornly and disgustingly clogged. I finally gave up around midnight and headed to bed with the hope that I would wake up the next morning to find my toilet miraculously fixed and functioning.
At the very least, I figured Monday would be over and done with. And Tuesday was bound to be a better day. Right? Right?
Yeah. Wrong. Today, I realized Tuesday is Monday’s bratty, spoiled younger cousin. Because it was more of the same. My toilet didn’t miraculously fix itself overnight. If anything, it was even more clogged than before, but, now, it was also sudsy. This was not helpful, because the suds grew bigger and bigger as I plunged. I still had no idea what in the world could be causing the back-up, although, if I’m being honest, I tried really hard not to think about it too much. Because … eew. My daughter texted me on her way to school to inform me that one of the dogs had barfed on the floor of her room, right by the door. So there was that little gem awaiting me. And a mountain of dirty laundry. And a filthy kitchen with a sink full of dishes (in spite of the fact that I cleaned the kitchen last night). Oh, and a heating unit inspection, which required me to hang around the house for most of the day until the repair guy decided to make an appearance.
I spent hours today trying to unclog that stupid toilet. I plunged. I snaked. I ended up having to bail out the water three times. It was gross. No, it was whatever thing comes after gross. My Springer hates the whole idea of plunging, which was a fun discovery. He ended up standing in the bathroom doorway, giving me the stinky fish-eye and barking at me while I plunged and snaked. Eventually, I gave up. The heating guy came. I threw stuff into the crock pot so that I wouldn’t have to think about dinner. I cleaned the kitchen yet again. I managed to get my second floor vacuumed. And, as soon as the opportunity presented itself, I ran away from home. Literally. I headed to a favorite restaurant for a late lunch and a couple of hours of quiet reading.
This evening, my daughter and I headed out to her flute lesson. It’s about twenty minutes away from our house because of evening traffic. And there was traffic, traffic, and more traffic. We arrived a bit early because my daughter’s flute has a leak. I wanted to leave it for repairs. We waited for her teacher. And waited. And waited. But her teacher never appeared. My daughter checked her usual lesson room and reported that it was all dark and full of cellos. It turned out my daughter’s teacher is sick and had canceled the lesson, but her email informing me of this never reached me. Honestly, at this point, I wasn’t even surprised for this to happen. It was kind of just “one more thing” in a long string of things.
I can’t say I’m sorry to see Monday and Tuesday go. I am annoyed and tired and frazzled. And done. I am so freaking DONE with Monday and Tuesday. I’m giving Wednesday the side-eye and thinking that it has to be a better day. I mean, this streak of mine can’t go on forever. Right?