The Flurry Day

I could make any manner of Monday jokes here, but we all know them already. Go ahead and recite a few in your mind, if you’d like, or visit someecards for your daily fix.

Here’s how yesterday was slated to go:

6:00 am – Husband wakes me up so I can run errands before work

9:00 am – begin work on time

2:30 pm – leave work to run more errands

4:30 pm – arrive at home

5:30 pm – delicious, nutritious dinner

6:00 pm – Black Ops II

6:30 pm – call time for show

10:45 pm – in bed, seconds away from sweet, sweet sleep

That’s a rad day. That’s the sort of productive, I got stuff done sort of day you want to start your week with. You even fit in Black Ops II because you’re not like a boss. You are a boss.

Oh, sorry TACO clan. Didn't know what hit you?

Oh, sorry TACO clan. Didn’t know what hit you?

But unfortunately, it’s very rare that I begin any week with a boss-like Monday, and this week was really no exception, good intentions aside.

It really started around 1:30 am when I realized the insomnia was back for whatever reason, and I clearly wasn’t going to want to wake up four hours later to beautify myself and then go to Walmart (for the record, I never want to go to Walmart). Also the realization that, Walmart aside, the other stores I was hoping to shop at weren’t going to be open till 8:00 or even 9:00, so it didn’t matter how early I got up, I wasn’t going to get in anyhow.

But I held out this hope that when Husband woke me up at 6:00 am, I’d be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, that somehow those four hours had been the best four hours of my life and I got sufficient REM, and that my productivity level would be through the roof.

Incidentally, don’t ask your spouse to wake you up at 6:00 am the following morning as he’s falling asleep. It’s probably not going to happen.

And so I woke up at 8:40, which is, even more incidentally, when I need to leave for work every morning. Boss man is in Hawaii. He’s really magnanimous when he’s in Hawaii. So I decided to run errands and show up at 11:30, because, after all, I only had one real task to do, and it was going to be a breeze, thanks to the thorough and accurate spreadsheet our student employee put together for me.

And now for your very own, small-scale A Series of Unfortunate Events, because …

Here’s how yesterday panned out:

The late wake-up

Kitty scratch. She’ll let you bathe her and clip her nails, but so help you if you decide to hold her while stepping onto a scale to see how much she weighs — she will cut you.

This is my shoulder. It still hurts.

This is my shoulder. It still hurts.

Errands at Walmart

Arrival at work, where it was discovered the spreadsheet was neither thorough nor accurate, making my copy/paste job less copy/paste and more type everything in, you’re probably leaving work late because of it.

Late departure from the office

Five grocery stores

Migraine in Costco, where it was abnormally loud

Five grocery stores (not five more. I just wanted to repeat that for emphasis. Because seriously.)

Burnt dinner

Burnt broccoli/chicken/soy sauce smell in the condo

Stage makeup on top of regular makeup in a panic because hello, we have to leave in 7 minutes.

Dinner in the dressing room

Small audience

A snag in the pantyhose large enough that I could finally fit my entire foot through it. Musical theatre: Ke$ha style.

We R Who We R

We R Who We R

And then, to round it all out, at the end of the show, I choked on a mouthful of water and, not within running distance of a garbage can or sink, decided to spit it up all over the floor. But of course the knee-jerk reaction is to put your hands out, like maybe you can catch it. With your fingers. So I closed the finale with a sopping wet blouse and jacket. Because why not.

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Well, It Happened Again

Disclaimer: this is going to be kind of complainy. I’m an unabashed complainer sometimes. You’re welcome.

I try to avoid using too many colloquialisms, but I had such a Monday today, and there are really no other ways to describe it beyond being such a Monday. I have a friend who only works Tuesdays through Fridays , and I’m starting to see the appeal.

But I also see the appeal of not working ever.

It was one of those “I don’t have a whole lot to do” days that, in the very last hour, turned into one of those “I have so much to do I’m not only going to work an hour and fifteen minutes past the time I normally go home, but I’m also going to be an hour late for a meeting” days. And those are always fun. And I discovered, after being hot, sweaty, and somewhat irritable, that Monday afternoons around 4:30 are, quite possibly, the worst times to go shopping at Costco. This is something I should have realized, what with being Mormon and living amongst a thousand families who have lots of kids who eat a lot of food and have a special evening at home all about families called — this is going to probably surprise you — Family Home Evening on Mondays.

I know, I know, I’m being all facetious in the bad way. I’m sorry.

But let’s get back to that meeting to which I was an hour late. It wasn’t a work meeting per se, although it was with a work contact on a more personal matter, and I should lead in with, “It wasn’t him.” He’s a nice guy, that Craig. You stop by Utah County sometime and deal with a guy named Craig, well, expect him to be nice. But he had a coworker he introduced me to who was, well … You know I don’t think I’ll actually speak to his character quite yet.

Craig introduced me as being Mary N—– because, well, that’s who I am (not giving you my entire last name makes me feel all sneaky and mysterious, by the way, even though the majority of you already know it — hi, Mom! Any opportunity to feel like a ninja, I suppose). And coworker of the year shook my hand and said, “Mary N—–, huh? You look like a traditional Mary N—–. All-American. Nice.”, which actually meant, “You look like your name should be Ching Chang Chong.”

He meant that in jest, of course, and had I not been representing BYU to a certain degree, I probably would have told him he looked like a traditional, all-American a-hole.

 

Oh, I realized the other day, it would be good for me to repost my email address for those of you interested in sharing your low points with me for THE CONTEST (note the all caps this time because I’m being all serious n stuff): thelowpointoftheday[at]gmail[dot]com