I know, I know, pissy is not a nice word. Well guess what, I don't feel so nice today. I don't know if it's because I have been staying up too late reading blogs, or if my traitorous female hormones are raging, but I feel pissy. My day started off on the wrong foot. As I hit the snooze button for about the tenth time, I knocked a glass off the nightstand and broke it, and my large pickle jar beside the table with change in it. How many times have I said, "No dishes in the bedroom". Too many to count and that is exactly the reason why. That should have been my warning, but oh nnnnooooo. I got up and woke up Keri and we both were getting ready. See I have a certain way that I like to start my day, and it goes like this:
I am fine and feel pretty good. So long as you do not bring any conflict into my life until at least 10 am. Any kind of drama that is introduced into my day before then, and I have NO tolerance for it. I guess it's just a fancy way to say that I am not a morning person. But the potential is there I tell you.
Anyway, as we are getting ready Keri asked me how the glass jar and the glass got broken. I then go on a tirade about how I broke the glass because SOMEONE left it on the nightstand instead of taking it to the kitchen. Had SOMEONE taken it to the kitchen like they were supposed to, then I would not have broken the glass. We have rules in this house and they should be followed. Because if they are not, then things get broken, messes get made, blah, blah, blah. Now.......had Keri not brought up the broken glass I would have been fine. After a few minutes I realize what I am doing and shut up.
After I get ready I come out of the bathroom and Keri has gotten ready and laid back down for a few minutes. I tell her I will be ready to leave soon. As we are almost ready to walk out the door, she says she wants to take her lunch. Then I go on ANOTHER tirade about how she should have been getting her lunch ready instead of laying down. I tell her that she should not lay back down unless she is completely ready to leave. That would include packing a lunch. (I am trying so hard not to be ill with her, but I just can't seem to help myself.)
Off to school she goes and I get on the interstate to go to work. I get six miles from my exit and traffic has come to a complete halt. I sit there and sit there, fiending for coffee really bad. Did you ever see the commercial where the guy is standing by the coffee pot? He is so impatient to have coffee that he removes the pot and wiggles his tongue directly where the coffee is coming out. Yeah, that's me. Anyway I arrive at work 30 minutes late. It took me thirty minutes to drive 6 miles. I am pissed. Really pissed. And dying for coffee.
The funny thing is, as this point, I have yet to realize that I am in a bad mood. I get settled in and start working. I can't find the invoices. I can't find the invoices I need ANYWHERE. M will help me. M could you please help me find these invoices. I can't find them anywhere. M finds the invoices in the only folder I didn't look in. The day progresses pretty much the same way.
At around 4 pm, M asks me if I will bring a cake next Friday for a co-worker's birthday. Now a little back history. When I was still in college, I asked the girls not to include me in the whole "birthday cake" deal. Which is that the girls would take turns bringing in cake for co-worker's birthdays. I asked not to be included because my schedule was so crazy. I also informed them that I did not want them bringing in cake for my birthday either. Sounds fair right? I don't bring cake for other birthdays, I get no cake for my birthday. I say yes, but I know that M can tell by the look on my face that I am not happy about it. The more I think about it, the more angry I become. Here is my mental rant about the cake:
I should have said no. I don't like to bake, I can barely cook as it is. Why do I have to bring a cake anyway? If I buy one it will cost at least 20 bucks. I didn't even work here when they decided to bring cakes. Why do only the women bring cakes? That is so sexist. There are three women and five men and only the women bring cakes. That is so old school. Why should we bear the responsibility of the cake bringing alone? I haven't agreed to be put in the cake bringing pool. Unfair I say, completely unfair!!!!
I get home from work and of course the "What's for dinner" saga begins. I have nothing for dinner. We are completely out of everything except for milk and bread. My children act like they haven't eaten for weeks and how dare I come home and get on the computer instead of whipping up their dinner. I decide that we are going to eat out and Melissa is going to go fetch it. That is after all, why I bought her a car. So she can run errands at my command. There now that is some happiness for the day. Send the teenager to fetch food and do nothing but sit here on the computer for the rest of the night. I feel better already!