Wednesday, June 22, 2011
After last week's "I don't have any friends" whinefest, I received a couple of very gracious offers to come hang out this week. One of them was for a four week toddler craft camp thing that sounded like fun, even though it would require me to get out of bed early (for me) in the morning. Hey, you want something, you have to make sacrifices, right?
Well, it was today, and I didn't make it. We start off the story with a three am bedtime. Thank you, insomnia. When I got up at 9:30 I was feeling pretty rough, but thankfully I had the foresight to shower last night so I wouldn't have to worry about it in the morning. I went and did my hair, then wandered into the kitchen to make my breakfast smoothie.
Yeah - it was a disaster. We have an arrangement in our house where I don't do dishes, and last night, apparently neither did anyone else. There was stuff from making dinner and jam everywhere. The blender was still in pieces in the sink. So much for breakfast.
I went to go put on my makeup, when I heard the dog start to bark like we were being invaded. Of course, that woke up Bubba, who does NOT wake up well most days. His father was on a phone call so I had to take him and calm him down, which took almost 15 minutes. When asked why he didn't tell the dog to knock it off, my husband responded that he DID, he was flicking her in the back of the head. Yeah... that doesn't work. This is why God gave us mouths with voices, so we can give the dog commands.
So I'm trying to get dressed with a screaming boy in my arms, my husband is on a conference call, I'm running late now, I haven't had breakfast and it's not looking like I am, and then I remember that my husband's schedule changed and I now have to drop him off at work on my way to the church for the crafts thing. Crap.
I love my husband, but he is NOT one to leave the house on time, EVER, not since I've known him. Sure enough, we leave the house 15 minutes later than I had planned. As we get close to his office, I look at the clock and think, I can still make it. I may be a minute or two late, but I can still make it.
I don't like being late. It stresses me out like you would NOT believe. Let's just add the stress of being late to the stress of not having enough rest, and the stress of knowing your house is a mess and will be a mess when you get home, and the stress of having to deal with a hysterically screaming child already, and the stress of not having eaten and not knowing when you'll get to eat.... things weren't looking good.
Then, as I approach the intersection where my friend said to meet her I start to have a horrible realization slowly come upon me... I never asked her the name of the church!!! She told me the cross streets, and stupidly I just sort of figured it would be the only one there, right on the corner. Well, there was a church there, but when I went in and asked, no one knew anything about a craft thing for toddlers. We got back into the car (someone needs to invent a quick loading carseat, for reals) and drove to another church a block away that we had passed, but after wandering around there for a bit no one knew anything either. They told me about another church in the immediate area, so I drove over there even though by this point it was already almost half an hour past the time the thing was supposed to start.
I drove around the parking lot, but didn't see any cars that looked like what I remembered her car looking like. I had a choice - I could once again get out of the car and wander around with my toddler looking for this class, or I could just give up and go home. Did I mention it was 105 degrees outside already? I was so gross and sweaty and tired of the carseat and frustrated and grouchy so I said screw it. I went home.
I feel like a complete failure and a total fuck up. Seriously, who does this crap? How could I forget to ask the freaking name of where I was going??? I hate that I made a commitment to be somewhere and failed to follow through. I couldn't even call her because I didn't have her phone number, and even if I did, I forgot my stupid phone at home in the chaos of trying to get out of the house. I'm so mad at myself. I just had to get it out.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed. Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind that if I had stayed there like I normally do, none of this would have ever happened.
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