Feeling Foo.

Yesterday, I posted as my Facebook status that Monday was an Epic Fail.  And while nothing life threatening had happened, no one was harmed, no one lost their job or had an accident, it was just one of those mind numbing RIDICULOUS days.

One of those days that are typical for a person like myself.

The kind of day where I feel like someone is following me with a hidden camera..just WAITING for me to flip out, and then inform me that it was all just a prank.

Unfortunately, for me..none of what usually happens is a prank..it’s just seriously ridiculous, yet often funny shit that would make great reality TV.

BUT  BEFORE I GO ANY FURTHER , MAY I JUST MENTION, FOR THE SAKE OF KEEPING IT FOO FRIENDLY IN HERE…

THE FOO FIGHTERS HAPPENED TO ANNOUNCE THE DATES FOR THE 1^ST LEG OF THEIR NORTH AMERICAN TOUR YESTERDAY.  THEY ARE PLAYING DIRTY JERSEY. SO TO BE FAIR, MONDAY WAS NOT A COMPLETE FAIL.  I’VE ALREADY STARTED TO COMPILE A LIST OF THINGS THAT NEED TO BE DONE BEFORE I SEE THE SHOWS.  SCORING VALIUM WAS PRETTY HIGH UP THERE ON THE LIST.

So…Monday.  And well, continuing into Tuesday.

This  is how it goes..

THE VERY FIRST person I come in contact with Monday morning is this rude, hyperactive woman carrying a baby in a car seat (which mind you, she was swinging that car seat around like it was a baton..I was just waiting for the kid to puke all over.  Poor thing is going to end up with brain damage if she doesn’t pipe down.) Anyway, she was all up in my grill, giving me shit at 10am about how she REALLY needed these crop pants, and help her find them, she doesn’t have time, where is the bathroom…etc. And as much as I wanted to slap her silly, I tried helping her, I really did. But we didn’t have her size and she was CLEARLY mortified by this fact. And apparently, taking it out on me, as if I had just ran over her grandmother in my Range Rover, was going to make her feel better.   She proceeded to spew out insults, and then stormed out.  That was fun.

About an hour later,  a pair of Asian men come in to find some shorts. Not only did they not speak a lick of English, but didn’t understand the language I was throwing at them either. The three of us went around and around for what seemed like days. Me pointing at things and yelling as if they were deaf, in hopes that they would understand me better.

“THIS SIZE!!??? THIS COLOR????!!!  WHAT DO YOUUUUWANNNNNT!!??”

And they just stared at me.

And then spoke their language. I’m no translator, but it sounded like they were getting pissed.

REALLY people??? Go to Old Navy and leave me alone, will ya?

Anyway, so that started things off.  Throw in the fact that my leftovers had somehow turned to pure grease when I re-heated them in the microwave, I discovered there was a hole in the ass of my pants, and called some random old lady by mistake  while trying to make a dentist appointment. She was about as clueless as they came, too. I had the wrong number but  she was curious to know exactly what dentist I was trying to contact. Umm…yeah.

And then, well, there’s my husband and my kids.

Once home, I was feeling better, even though on the ride home I saw what, I can only assume was a large deer ,on the side of the road in about 4 billion pieces.   But I remained optimistic that it would be a quiet and peaceful evening.  BUT it just wouldn’t be a night in my house without some kind of Monty Python antics.

1^st-I walk into the living room to find crumbs scattered EVERYWHERE. And not just a few crumbs..It looked like confetti.  Turns out my daughter was practicing her goat imitation, and was showing my son how they ate.  Right. So, I go to get the vacuum.  I clean up the goat feed, and I try to empty the canister out in the garbage can, but it won’t open..The pedal thing is stuck.

2 minutes later my husband walks in the door and sees me fiddling with the dirt and garbage can.

“What did you do?” he asks me.

I give him the evil eye and he flexes his muscles and pushes me aside so that he can fix it.

An hour later and half a tube of Gorilla Glue gone, the garbage can is still busted.  Now the hub is frustrated and tossing around insults. Not at me, at the garbage can. At one point his finger gets caught, he hurls the garbage can across the kitchen and calls it a DIRTY SCRATCH BASKET.

Umm… a WHAT?

The kids come running in to see what all the ruckus is, and I’m laughing so hard that I can’t quite function. Instead of wondering why the garbage can is now laying in the dining room, my son wants to know what a scratch basket is. Go ahead honey..why don’t you tell him, because I’d also like to know.

Fast forward to this morning. I get a text from hub that states he forgot his check card at home and can I bring it to him at work. No problem.

Get the kids ready for school. Go to bring them to school, but I can’t find my keys. Where are my keys?? Has ANYONE seen my keys?? Blank stares. I panic. Kids are late and my keys are missing. I TEAR the house apart.  No keys. While doing this, neighbor calls and asks if I can drop her kids off too, her newborn is screaming. Sure I can…BUT I CANNOT FIND MY F*%$#$ keys. So the neighbor lets me take her car. Her brakes are a lot tighter than mine and the kids are hanging on for dear life.

Turns out my mother tossed my car keys in her bag yesterday when leaving my house. Not sure how she didn’t notice an extra set of keys in her bag when clearly hers were in the IGNITION of her vehicle, but well, she’s my mom..so I can’t really make fun of her.  Well, maybe I can. Senile old bat.

So I score my keys. I’m now off to give my husband his check card.

I greet him at work and he looks tired and annoyed. I ask him if he’s still upset about the garbage can debacle and he says no my arm hurts.

Really? Why does your arm hurt?

He proceeds to tell me that late last night he went outside to make sure that our new gazebo wasn’t getting destroyed by the wind and the rain. He was apparently trying to reinforce something but couldn’t see what he was doing. YOU SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING DON’T you??  Rain. Wind. Electricity.

He went to switch on the light outside in the gazebo and got zapped in his jammies.

The rest of the evening he didn’t sleep well because he says his arm was tingling and felt like a log attached to his body.

Now I am standing in the place my husband is employed laughing so hard that I nearly wet myself. People from a couple of aisles over peek around to see what the hell is going on.  

As I’m walking away, trying to wipe the mascara from my face..my wise-ass husband yells

“Why don’t you blog about that shit?”

And so I did.