This blog is now retired. My new site is at: Predictably Irrational.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Good Job, Buddy!

For most of the day, I had a much better day than yesterday and the day before.

For most of it.

It started off, however, with a freaky sight across the street from my house. I have never seen anything like this and it took my breath away. I thought I was looking at a bunch of mutant prairie dogs. The fact that they weren't moving was the only thing making me think that they weren't real but I felt creepy butterflies in my tummy just looking at them.

It turns out that these were weird blow-up dinosaurs. There is a big black "50" in there, so this was a celebratory display for our neighbor.

The rest of the day went better than yesterday. It wasn't 100% stress-free but it certainly was 25% better than the stressful day I had yesterday.

But it's not over until I look at the back of my I am trying to get home in a good time to get the girls to the swim meet. As I mentioned in yesterday's post, the meet was canceled due to thunderstorms so we had to regroup for tonight: same time, same place. So I'm doing "okay" on ETA for home, then changing my clothes to more pool-friendly attire, and grabbing my book and crossword puzzle book for entertainment.

That takes a few minutes for me and I text CJ to make sure we have MiMi's stuff ready to go so I can do my thing and then we can take off.

I get home, and the first thing I see is a complete mess in the living room. WTF?!

Then I hunt for my cooler to put my new canned beer in. I go the freezer for my ice and...there's about a dozen ice cubes. WTF?!

OK. Now, let's get our chips into a bag. Where are my funyons I bought yesterday? MiMi hands it to me and I have what Tim calls "funyon dust" left in the bag. WTF?!

Whatever, whatever. Let's get this stuff into the car. I then hear my phone beep a hundred times. I look and I see my VM-translated-to-text message that the orthodontist had called, telling me they were waiting for me to stop by to pick up CJ's bite-thingy (to go with her spacered-molar-teeth-in-prep-for-braces). Earlier in the day, I received a text message and picture from CJ showing me the remains of the bite-thingy after the puppies got to it.  She had called the orthodontist to request another one and apparently, they had been waiting for me to pick it up.

I stormed into the house because, by now, I am frazzled. "CJ. When I tell you to find out if you can get a new bite-thingy, you should at least let me know that you asked for it!"  "I did! I sent you a text message!"

I go through my texts and, sure enough, there is a missed text from CJ that says I can pick up her bite thingy now.

Great. I yelled at her for something she actually did right. Yes. I felt bad and I apologized. Grumpily.

To top all of this off, my car is nearly out of gas. The light went on on the way home and while I can make it to the pool, there is no way I could make it to the other side of Raleigh, to pick up CJ's bite thingy, back to the pool, then back home.

But it's too late for me to do ANY of this BEFORE the swim meet.

So I drive the girls to the pool, find a table, plant my stuff there and make my demands known to CJ: DO NOT LET ANYONE HAVE THIS TABLE.

I leave a prime parking space and head out to Six Forks, inner beltline side, to pick up an envelope with bite thingies in it...which is taped to the door of the orthodontist since I never showed up.

This is during prime time quitting time.

Oh...but first...I had to get gas.

Found a station and as my luck would have it, I am approached by the woman in front of me to help her with the pump. 

I actually didn't mind. I am always happy to help. I just thought, for a moment, out of all the days, today?

Since Tim was working late, I pinged him to see if he was around. The one thing that went right is that he was indeed home while I was in the area, so I dropped by to pick him up so we could have one car to the pool.

And we made it. Without missing MiMi's first heat. We had a nice front lane view of all the people, patting the boys on the back, with their "Good job, Buddy!" I kid you not: several grown men said this, with the big pat on the back, to nearly every boy that came out of the pool.

So that made me think, where's mine? Where's my "good job, buddy?" 


  1. i got sarah this t-shirt a few back...:

  2. Rico: I need one of those shirts. Bravo to you for getting it for her.

    $Bill: I will be expecting the slap on the back that comes with those words...