So Sad, It's Funny
Mommy, when are you coming to visit me? I need to snuggle up in your arms and let someone else worry about the responsibilities of the world.
Today was awful and it's not even over yet. I'd keep eating cookies, but the package is empty, so I can't. Luckily there were only a few left otherwise then I'd have one more thing to feel bad about. (How will I ever fit in my skinny jeans?)
It all started this morning. The foundation man came to our house today. We have been suspecting some foundation problems for awhile as doorways have been shifting, etc. I actually have been quite paranoid about it, so when we had that earthquake kind of recently I flipped out. I was ready to move, because I thought the house was just going to fall down. It is a good thing I found out it was an earthquake. Well, the owners finally decided to get it looked at, which is why Mr. Foundation showed up.
In my mind, I think he's going to look at the OUTSIDE of my house, you know at the foundation. NO, he wants to see the inside of my house. The inside of my house that shows, yep she's been sick for over a week and hasn't cleaned a thing. It might not have been so bad, if the house had been clean before all of the infections, but it wasn't. So I have clutter on top of clutter. In addition, someone just generously gave us a bunch of hand me downs, large hand me downs (i.e. ballet bar, bike, shopping cart, etc. yeah large). And there's more, yesterday we had some family pictures taken which means that every single piece of clothing in our house has been looked at over the past couple of days to determine what we all should have worn.
Why oh why did the problem have to be in MY bedroom. No one goes in someone's bedroom. That's like your secret place where you can stash everything. (You know, like a giant pile of stuff to go to Goodwill.....and massive stacks of other things)
Why was the kitchen one of the other problem spots? I had done a load of dishes before Mr. Foundation came, but with dishes even on the ground, and an unswept floor it was pretty bad.
I was mortified out of my mind, not to mention, I couldn't hear half of what he said, because Daughter was banging on the piano and my ears are still not draining properly which makes me think I'll have to try the other antibiotic.....boo.
I kept telling myself that I am sure he's seen worse. I also knew, he probably didn't care, so I kept all of my excuses to myself. Also, I was pretty positive that he wanted to stay Mr. Foundation instead of having to listen to my excuses as Mr. Therapist. :)
He left...I didn't cry. I knew it wasn't that bad. I just wished it hadn't of happened.
I order some pictures on-line to be printed at the store at 12:35. They are supposed to be done at 1:35. I think in my head that we will get the pictures (at 1:35) and Daughter will fall asleep on the way home. At 12:44 there is an email that says my pictures are ready to be picked up. I take Daughter to the store. At 1:35 there is nobody to be seen.
I wait and wait and wait. I ask around for help. Some non-picture people discover that my pictures actually HAVE NOT been printed (or like 4 other orders which should have been), which would mean "not ready" to be picked up like the email says. I ask for a manager, because I am trying to figure out how the picture person went to lunch without doing my pictures.
At this time, oh like 1:50 the picture person shows up and says to give her 5-10 minutes. Daughter is completely squirmy so we go browse around a store that I don't want to browse around. Daughter finds glass. Daughter finds things when we go to stores. I want to go home. I don't feel good. My ears hurt. After 5-10 minutes I wrestle Daughter back to the picture counter.
Pictures are printing. I am annoyed, but I wait. The machine stops printing pictures. Where is the picture person? Helping another customer pick out a digital camera, a task that could have taken who knows how long. I wait a few minutes, and when it is clear that the picture person isn't going to do anything about my pictures I approach her and ask if the pictures are done. Maybe she printed them first? (Wouldn't that make sense, if she knew I was waiting for them?)
She says to me, "I don't know. I am helping another customer. I'll give them to you for free." I say, "I understand that, I just have been waiting for 25 minutes and my daughter needs to leave." I don't care about saving my 39 cents. My money had already been counted out and sitting on the counter, just waiting for her to give me my pictures. Eventually she goes back to the machine and then has to reload it with paper!!!!!!! It wasn't really done. The other orders are like for hundreds of prints and I just stand there watching and waiting.
At this point.....Daughter has an accident in her pants, complete with yellow puddle on the floor. For the next 10 minutes I hold her (read: wrestle and wrangle), so she doesn't walk through/ play in the puddle. She has a wet spot on her. I have a wet spot on me. Yuck. There are other customers in the area and I am just so embarrassed, because of course if I had gotten my pictures at 1:35, even 1:45, this would not have happened. I hope that no one knows we are the culprits. What am I supposed to do? Do I get paper towels? I could have told Picture Woman, but I was too embarrassed and didn't want to create any more scene.
The picture person finally comes back and sorts all 300+ million pictures of these other orders. After like 5 more minutes of this (NO JOKE), THEN she prints my 2 pictures. (This couldn't happen at the same time?!?!?) At 2:15 I am driving home. I cried. and cried.
I know. This happens to everyone. Everyone has a body fluid story to share. Everyone has body fluids period, so I don't know why they embarrass me so much.
This makes me think of that conference talk by Joseph B. Wirthlin about how you need to laugh at everything. Maybe later tonight, after Husband gets home I will read it. That will require me to come out of my black pit of misery. I am trying. I am getting there. Every minute that passes gets better, but Husband said that he'd still call the manager for me. I am trying to figure out why they would invite me to pick up my unprinted pictures!?!??!
I am human. I am like everybody else.