I’ve been a mental basket case lately…when I’m in this state of mind making even the simplest decisions are ridiculously difficult. I forget little things that are important…I don’t do things timely. I procrastinate. Case in Point: Yesterday and this morning.
Yesterday, I met my mother for lunch. I hadn’t planned on this, and before that had decided that since my “low fuel” light was on, I had to stop for gas on my way home from work, since I can’t possibly be expected to stop ON MY WAY to work, because I’m chronically time-challenged. That extra trip made me super low on gas. Instead of leaving work at 5, I had to stay late to help with a brief unexpectedly. That pushed me back to leaving at 7…when my family was anxiously awaiting my arrival so that we could eat supper.
Also, yesterday, I found out that Little A gets to start going to the YWCA, since Zohrmom got a new job there, and she gets a HEFTY discount. Don’t ask for details, just know this: It’s awesome. So I knew that I needed to fill out some paperwork last night, pack a swim suit, a towel, a lunch, and a snack. But by the time I got home last night, I was done. I opted to, you guessed it, put that off until in the morning. After dinner, I promptly fell asleep before setting my alarm clock, while watching tv in bed.
This morning, Daisy, my co-dependent dog, began barking hysterically for no reason. She never does that. I told her to shut up. Moments later, I realized what she was barking at…my doorbell was ringing. I shot out of the bed. I looked at the clock: 7:18. I said some unseemly words. Well, yelled them, actually. You see, YaYa picks up Big E or work at 7:15. That’s why I normally wake him up at 6:30. But not today, Dear Readers. She waited out the 6 minutes it took him to get ready, and I began scrambling to get my coffee down, fill out the paperwork for the Y, pack a lunch, find a swim suit and a towel and write Little A’s name on them, take a shower…etc. etc. etc. When Little A was informed of her new schedule and where she was going, she promptly reported it to Little B, who insisted on going also. I lied and told him that it was a “girl place”, a temporary cover that will surely be busted like a water balloon this evening when Little A comes home to report to the family about her adventure, which will inevitably involve BOYS AND GIRLS. On top of that, for the past three months or so, Chuck E Cheese has really amped up its advertising campaign apparently, because on at least 12 occasions, Little B has insisted that we get right up and go there, because that’s where a kid can be a kid. I tell him every time that it is closed. Guess where Little A’s first field trip (which is today) is to? Oh, come on, guess.
But, I’ll deal with that later. (As usual). I was late.
I shoved a PB&J sandwich and a cup of milk into Little A’s little hands and we were out the door.
I left my house at 8:15. Or, should I say, I TRIED TO leave my house at 8:15. When I started my vehicle, it sputtered and died. I had forgotten to stop for gas. And I obviously didn’t realize it was at such a critical level. Luckily, I didn’t have to involve Zohrhubby in this fiasco, because to do so would have resulted in a long, boring lecture about how important it is to keep a reasonable amount of gas in the tank at all times because of trash settling and clogging the filters and screwing with the combustion or something or another and yada, yada, yada.
I remembered that I had just filled up the gas can for the lawnmower last weekend, so I had at least 3/4 of a gallon left in that. That got me started and as far as the nearest gas station.
From that moment on, it was a relatively smooth morning, as my mornings go. I finally made it to work at about 9. When you consider that I was here 2 hours late yesterday, my one hour long tardy today doesn’t seem so bad. Right? Right!
I need post-it notes that I can strap to my face. I’m going to order me some now.
So, now I’m going to go about my usual business of dodging issues, forgetting about problems, and putting off the inevitable.
Have a great day, Dear Readers.