6.26.17 It’s a Good Thing I Don’t Believe in a Bad Summer Day

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“Dear Life, when I asked if my day could get any worse, it was a rhetorical question, not a challenge.” -someecards.com

So, I am a fan of the belief that every day has a silver lining. There is always a bright side. And that nothing is ever as awful as it seems. But some days still kinda suck. It’s summer, so I know that this cannot be, because the sun is shining and the sky is blue, the wind is tickling the leaves and making them dance. I don’t believe in a bad summer day. And yet, here I am … a list of “are you kidding me” moments making up my morning, and afternoon. It is late now, and if this day wants to redeem itself, it sure better hurry up and change quickly, because the sun is well past halfway to setting.

It started off with waking up … feeling cramps … and going back to bed. Waking up for real a short while later, I discovered that the laundry fairy didn’t come (though I dreamed and wished for her to) and began to sort the precarious, leaning tower of doom. I emptied the kitty box (because my husband DIDN’T even though we agreed I’d give the cat her medicine if he would do the litter), only to walk out to our garbage and see that  a raccoon had torn into our bins the night before, scattering God knows what all over! Then, my dog decided to loot this treasure and display its remnants all over my yard! I hobbled over (still in my pjs) put on some gloves and dug in. Sometimes I think I’d like to ignore dirty messes and pretend I don’t see them so one of the other members of my family will do it but then I know (from past experience of having tried) that they will just shout to me when they do find it.

After the garbage with the garbage, my kids and I took a trip to Hades, I mean, the post office (which I’m pretty sure is the same thing). I must tell you that I loathe the post office, not because of the office itself, so much as the instant downfall of my children the moment we enter. It’s like the second we go in, some magnetic pull from the automatic door messes with their moral compass, making it spin haywire, simultaneously turning their usual, awesome composure and manners to wild monkey status! He began with spinning the card display, and the red-faced, white-haired postal clerk asked him to stop. I, of course, looked like a negligent mother, blowing hair out of my face to look up as I hog-wrestled packaging tape and a box to the ground. He later got yelled at by the other postal clerk for writing on the desk tablet. “What on earth?” I looked at him with dagger eyes.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to,” he replied.

“Really? You didn’t know you weren’t supposed to write on a desk? Do you write on a desk at school?”

“No.”

“Well then what the heaven!?!”

“I don’t know why I did it.”

Wrath.

Some cute old man came in, and I could see him smile at both of my kids as I flustered about with another box and more packaging tape. (I think that if there were video footage of my box packaging, I could send it in to the professional wrestling organization and instantly make the team.) Usually, I would stop, and chat with someone like this cute old man, I’d take all the time in the world to make a connection, but just as I thought about doing so, my daughter needed a kleenex. I didn’t have a kleenex. She began to drip. I took the edge of her sleeve and … well … you can paint the rest of that picture yourself. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty judged by said old man, and he shuffled off with a look.

When I got to the counter, I mailed a package to Pennsylvania, and the clerk said that because it was three pounds, I needed to either pay $35.00 or it would take four weeks to get there! In four weeks I could walk to Pennsylvania and deliver the box myself! I mailed a package to Georgia. “That’s not the right zip code.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Oh wait, it is. But what does the address say?”

“Busbee.”

“Is that a place?”

“I guess so?” I said, showing her the address slip.

“Oh, yeah,” more typing into her computer, “I guess it is.”

“I hope so.”

$59.50 for TWO BOXES that weighed less than five pounds together!

More wrath.

Later:

My sister and I finally stop playing phone tag – the doorbell rang.

I had a meeting with a house repair man – my dog jumped on him.

I was trying to have a professional conversation – my allergies flared and I couldn’t stop sneezing.

I made my kids lunch  – my son shoved his elbow in the peanut butter.

I told my daughter not to do something – she cried.

I was feeling super bloated and gross –so  I ate more!

I have a no solicitous number – Honda called asking me to trade in my Kia!

The dryer buzzed – all the clothes were as wet as when I threw them in!

I told the kids to play outside – they hit balls over the fence.

I told my daughter to look before crossing the street – she said, “Wait both ways?”

I have a tummy ache.

I am tired.

And though we’ve only been home for two hours, it is now time to leave again.

Suffice it to say … it’s a good thing I don’t believe in a bad summer day – otherwise I’m pretty sure I’m having one.

So here’s to the moments you will laugh over later (probably, okay maybe not even then). I hope your summer day is everything a summer day should be, and nothing at all like mine.

Elle

6 thoughts on “6.26.17 It’s a Good Thing I Don’t Believe in a Bad Summer Day

  1. Yikes what a day!!! I had one sorta similar…. no…..not even!!!!
    Loved the “What the heaven” line!!!

  2. What a day you had friend!! Thank you for always being so honest, and down to earth!! Wishing you beautiful days ahead to outshine the ones that don’t go as planned. So enjoy your blog, love your heart!!😊

  3. Dear Elle, I will take it even one better, I don’t even believe in a bad day! However, I too had a day similar to yours, also beginning at the post office and ending in cleaning up, cat spit up, which is why I couldn’t find time to write to you until tonight. But with all that said, I remember a great quote by Regina Brett, “If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we’d take ours back.” Amen, right?

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