Have you ever woken up in the morning and ya just knew shit was going to go down? Like a sort of bad energy settled in to test your patience for the day? Next time you wake up feeling like that, turn around and go right back to bed. Heed my advice and fuck the day because I am telling you something. Sometimes you simply can not catch a break no matter how positive you are. However determined you may be to power through whatever shit-storm is headed your way, I say turn around, run and fuck it. Why am I telling you this? Because yesterday was the day I should have said so and I didn’t. This is the tale of the worst day ever.
I thought it was odd when I rose yesterday and my little guy was in our bed. My kids will occasionally lay in my nest, (Any mom’s out there know about the nest?) but everyone likes their own bed, so that’s a positive. William heading to my bed meant something was up. I should have immediately investigated that further, but NOTHING and I mean NOTHING happens until I have my coffee. As I headed down to the kitchen I turned the corner and noticed what may have been the largest, freshest, non-formed pile of shit I have ever seen. Not really what I am looking for in the way of day commencing activities, but whatever. Clearly somebody wasn’t feeling well. That someone was our darling boxer Mildred. Mildred enjoys playing with the twins, long walks and SHITTING IN MY HOUSE!!! Whatever, I’ve dealt with worse. All I needed to do was get a cup of coffee and then I would tend to the dumper-doodle-do at the bottom of my stairs.
As I made my way to the kitchen, wouldn’t ya know it, I slipped in a puddle of urine. At that very moment I should have fucked the day, but I am no quitter. One roll of paper towels later, speed mopping and some really dark thoughts said aloud, I was off and running for a shower. At this point, I had ten minutes to do all of the things us ladies can spend an hour doing. No worries. I’ve got this. And just when you think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, it did! On my way back upstairs, rushing, sans coffee, full blown bitch mode, William passed me on the stairs going down. I said, “What are you doing up child? It’s 5:30. Go back to bed.” He replied, “I can’t go back to my bed. I had an accident last night.” Ah. Mystery solved. “Don’t worry buddy. It happens. Go back in mommy’s bed. RYANNNN!!!!” God love that man. He took care of mattress cleanup while I took what some people call a shower. Hardly. I made it out the door and got on the train. The day was looking up. Or was it?
In the 25 years of me being a “woman” I have never experienced what occurred on that Godforsaken morn. Like I said earlier. I should have fucked the day and stayed in bed. You just can’t make this stuff up. As my train arrived into Union Station, I stood up to get in line and wouldn’t you know it? It looked like a murder scene on my seat. The menses was a-flowing. Don’t worry. My pants were so light grey they looked white. I probably should have gone directly in for a blood transfusion, but instead I continued on to the office. Shoot me now. I give. Wait! No I don’t! I can’t. My crotch looked like a red pen leaked it’s ink all over and EVERYONE COULD SEE IT! Home girl needed to think and think fast. I skipped the train bathroom and headed to my office. The only good thing about me working at the crack of dawn is no one is in the building that early. Yesterday, around 7 a.m., you would have found me pant-less in a public bathroom, spouting horrificly profane statements, panicking about how I was going to get myself some fresh pantaloons. Don’t worry. I figured it out.
I managed to get my now completely soaked pants back on my body. Have you ever been caught in a rain storm with jeans on? That’s what it felt like while I sat at my desk. I located a denim button down that was hanging around the office and I tied it around my waste to take the attention off my less blood stained, but now soaked light grey pants that were now dark grey to the knees. Good times all around. I waited for The Knife to arrive (that’s my dad), explained my situation (that was embarrassing) and took his car to Target where I proceeded to drive down a one way street the wrong way. If there had been a bolt of lightening yesterday, it would have undoubtedly struck me.
The moral of this story is this. Sure, my day got better. Things always do. To be honest, the day’s events were so ridiculous I thought I would share them with with you in hopes to make you giggle. Perhaps you were in the midst of a shit-storm and this tale helped you to realize that just when you think you have got it bad, someone always has it worse.
Love it. Live it. Share it.