I try not to, but I hate morning people. Despite waking between 4:14 and 5:37 each day, I am not a morning person. You might want to leave me alone until 11:30.
This morning was particularly bad. I'd forgotten to buy a birthday present needed for this afternoon. I'd also forgotten the give the principal an end-of-the-year gift while remembering everybody else and his brother. Why did I have to start that crap at the new school? I wouldn't have. I really wouldn't, except that the good will it creates gets transferred to Nick. They love him at this school. They call him kind. They don't know that he gave new books to his language arts teacher because I'd bought something he had no interest in and he wanted to give them away rather than return them. They don't know that he donated the oversized stuffed toy to his math teacher because it took up too much room on the couch and Mike just wanted to get rid of it. I think the joy of winning it at the fair was mitigated by a bit of embarrassment. The thing didn't fit easily in the car on the way home. My reaction was not quite sweet. This monster didn't fit easily in the car on the way to school either. Thank God it didn't have to come home at the end of the year. It was raffled off to the highest bidder using play money the kids earned by being good citizens. The kids loved this creature. It was a cheaply made eight foot monkey with dreadlocks that was stuffed with styrofoam pebbles that kept leaking out of the back of its leg. I can imagine the look on some mom's face when a kid tells her that this thing was going to fit into his room.
It did not have to come back home. Thankfully.
But I did have to run to Starbucks at 6:35 this morning so I could get that extra gift that I'd forgotten before I drove the kids to school. I told Nick he had to deliver it so I wouldn't look bad coming into the office with an extra gift, obviously the one I'd forgotten. And again, Nick will get all the good will that silly card creates. The barrista at Starbucks, a pretty girl of half my age who was eight and a half months pregnant, was way too cheerful. I'm telling you that I considered slapping her as she worked, but ...
After I dropped the kids off at school, I went to Target to get the birthday present, a Nerf gun, that I'd have no other opportunity to get if I waited. Mike obligingly looked it up online. It was in stock. Of course it was. Only for him. I couldn't punch him through the phone lines. Yet, when I looked through the shelves of toys, nothing like that appeared. The guy from electronics almost made me laugh with his story of Nerf wars he'd had with his buddies. He said that the whistling bullets were eliminated because parents thought they were too loud. I almost laughed again. I liked the whistling bullets. He had someone bring the right Nerf gun out of the warehouse. He even kept me company while we waited, chatting generously the whole while. By then, it was only 8:36 in the morning. He even rang me up right then and there. I wanted to elbow him as he handed me my bag, but ...
In the parking lot, I realized I'd forgotten to get a gift receipt. Well crap. I turned around and went back into the store. The lady at customer service had long beautiful blond hair and a smile on her face. I hated her instantly. I'm sure she never experienced the overall feel of dark circles under eyes and a bad case of hair fuck. Never. Oh sure, she'd be happy to print a gift receipt for me. I might have a canister of pepper spray in the bottom of my purse along with an old roll of Mentos. I could see if it still worked, but ...
While I was there, I ran into Fred Meyer to get the kind of stevia packets that Mike uses at work. It had been on the grocery list for three weeks. Mike kept saying it could wait. I decided to use self-checkout since it might reduce my exposure to one more person, but no, the bag I was using was too heavy and a helpful guy stepped up and reset the monitor before I could turn around. I wanted to stomp his foot with my boot, but ...
After that, I had to stop at the elementary school to organize some things for the festival on Saturday and pick up some paperwork. It was only 9:23 in the morning. The elegant and clearly artistic lady in the office had amazing jewelry and wore perfect makeup. I hadn't even showered. I ran my tongue over my teeth. I hadn't brushed either. Before I opened my mouth, she handed me the paperwork I needed. I wanted to spit on her shoes, but ...
By 10:04 am, I was on the couch, ready to add to my five hours of sleep with another hour and a half before the boys got home from the last day of school. I could have used another hour or two. September is a long way away.
Thankfully, people can't read my mind or I might have been arrested at 6:43 am at the Starbucks counter in front of that sweet pregnant barrista. It's almost 11:30 am. It'll be safe to get back to me after that.
Thank you for listening, jb
No comments:
Post a Comment