Sunday, April 5, 2009

I swear it was disguised as a Monday . . .

2:30 a.m. Friday--allergies are a bitch. Took a Benadryl so I could actually get some sleep. Only a few more hours til get-ready-for-work time.

3:30 a.m. Friday--woke up to hubby snoring. Sent him to a different room. Could still hear him snoring. Eventually forced my way back to sleep.

5:00 a.m. Friday--Number One Son absentmindedly slammed front door as he left for work. Jarred me awake. Trying to get back to sleep--again--I contemplate "absentmindedly" changing the locks before Number One returns home.

6:30 a.m. Friday--phone rings. In my stupor, I mistake that noise for the alarm and jump out of bed. Realize it's the f***ing phone. Enter kitchen just in time to hear the message. It's our friend Randy who doesn't live here anymore. Because he lives 2/10 of a mile away. He's calling because he wants to come over for morning coffee. He's calling from the road directly in front of our kitchen window. The kitchen window I am standing in front of. I am naked. Awesome.

7:00 a.m. Friday--my cell rings. It's Beautiful. She's very, very ill. Wants to know if I'm working and whether I can give her a hand with the kids because she's miserable. Redeeming his snoring self, sweet Hubby rises to the call and offers to take both children by himself all day.

7:02 a.m. Friday--Hubby achieves sainthood. There is no absolution for snoring, however.

7:30 a.m. Friday--my alarm goes off. Anticlimactic. Oh, and? Migraine. Naturally . . .

8:30 a.m. Friday--phone call from work. Instead of working 10-2, they'd like me to fill in for Cindy who is sick. Would I be willing to work 11-7:30? Of course I would.

11:00 a.m. Friday--haul groggy, cantankerous carcass to work. Notice that Cindy is there. Cindy, it seems, has had the worst of it and is feeling enough better to earn her 8 hours. Cindy has been in a serious financial bind for some time now and can't afford not to work--I suspect she's squirrelling away her sick leave in case something major comes up. And who could blame her?

11:01 a.m. Friday--"Since Cindy's here, can I go home?" I jokingly seriously ask. But I can't. Because Robby is sick too.

3:00 p.m. Friday--Manage to make it to previously scheduled doctor's appointment. Miss 2-1/2 hours of work in the middle of the day. Leaving me free to stay late helping out since they're still shorthanded and it's unusually busy for a Friday afternoon.

8:45 p.m. Friday--came home. Tired. Ill-humored. Obliged to spend an evening out with friends visiting from out-of-state. Visiting because their dad is dying. Turning them down is not an option.

9:30 p.m. Friday until 3:00 a.m. Saturday--drama. Juvenile drama. I might as well not even be in the room. I am not being talked to so much as I'm being used. And ignored. And now I am so angry and irritable. Just. Don't. Freaking. Care anymore. Wish that turning them down had been an option.

3:30 a.m. Saturday--finally get to come home. Find Hubby's stash of special chocolate and invite myself to sample.

3:32 a.m. Saturday--Hubby would like to know why I got into his chocolate. Seriously? Where's the mystery????


6 comments:

Flutterby said...

It is kinda looking like April is going to suck dirty rocks for everyone. I have never seen so many of my blog friends posting this same kind of thing lately, lol.
I need to get to work on that beachfront getaway.

Jen on the Edge said...

Oh my, I can't even imagine a day like that. I hope your weekend was more restful.

Mary said...

Flutterby nailed it - we're all, as she put it, "sucking dirty rocks" right about now. (BTW, Flutterby - that has to be the best descriptive phrase I've seen in ages!)

I don't know what it is. I think it's the economy. Yeah, that's it. The economy is to blame for all of our migraines, unplanned flashing and snoring husbands.

Whitenoise said...

Wow. Hope your next day was better!
;-)

Tink said...

Girlfriend you deserved every ounce of that chocolate and more!

CSY said...

Oh honey! That was an AWFUL day!!! You SO deserve the chocolate! What does the Husband think, just because he took care of the grandchildren he's immune to chocolate theft? He MUST be crazy!!!