I’ve often wondered what the secret might be for preventing certain things that might go on in my day from making a clean slate of a day turn into a crap chute of a day. I don’t know. Grow a thick skin? Mine seems to be in need of some exercise because it’s become fairly susceptible to negativity. It doesn’t rebound as easily as it might have once upon a time.
Ok, here’s how to make me have a bad day.
Wake up 15 to 10 minutes from the time I’m supposed to be at work. The only way to make it on time would be to skip the shower, skip brushing my teeth, skip changing my underwear and skip getting a brush through my hair. So just get up, throw on my jeans, socks, shoes, shirt. Tie my hair back, wash my face, grab my purse and leave.
Get to work “in the nick of time” and arrive to find scowls on everybody’s faces. No “hello”’s. This is when I resort to grunting if someone did say hello.
Scratch that. Instead of scowls on everyone’s face, my next-door coworker is especially chipper and would like nothing else but to talk about irrelevant drivel all morning when I’d like nothing else than for him to shut the fuck up.
Ah yes, that’d piss me off real good.
I get coffee but it sucks. I log in to my workstation and read my email and I find emails addressed directly to me asking for some shit or other and it has to be taken care of THAT DAY. A 9am meeting reminder pops up on my monitor resulting in a deep sigh and slouching further into the seat.
As the day progresses, annoying overly talkative coworkers boast about some accomplishment of theirs or another while I’m made to listen (because I’m not deaf).
Scratch that, I’m asked some question by coworkers and when my groggy self can’t think up an answer fast enough, they scoff or say something with that “sound” in their voice. You know the one. Yeah, that’ll steam up my eyeballs really good for a few moments then I’ll move on because I know if I stay there too long, I’d need to leave - literally.
Fast forward to 30 minute before leaving. Next shift shows up along with annoying coworker I’ll call Grover. Grover won’t shut up with his annoying voice and “different” speech and I’ll be glad that it’s nearly time to leave the premises but before I leave, Grover says something that completely deflates me and has me feeling like I wanna run my minivan into every fucken ninny with a license on the road.
I thank my gods of cobal that my drive home is only 10 minutes long.
I get home, baby is screaming because she’s starving, J starts her annoying whining for cartoons and juice, the dogs are barking because I’ve just arrived and they start scratching at the bedroom door (because they’re not allowed to roam the house when there’s nobody home). I open the door to the bedroom to let them out and the nauseating whiff of dog shit hits me like a bat in the face. I stretch my neck in and see the pile of dog stench on the floor. I stretch my neck even farther and see dog pee puddled up against the far wall of my room.
If I wasn’t already angry enough by then to dismember my second born and feed her limbs to the dragon in the tank, I probably am now.
The rest of the evening is a production line of ass wiping, kid feeding, scaring off my dog obsessed with licking everything in sight, followed by 2 hours of nonstop whining, crying, screaming, begging for cherios, chips, ice cream, cartoons, attention, and more juice.
If it’s a really bad day, the kids go to bed an hour early. I pray neither wakes up for the rest of the night and I collapse on the couch feeling tense and drained the rest of the night. Truly unwinding is not possible until I pass out unconscious somewhere between my couch and my bed.
Sadly, this recipe for a bad day happens more often than I care to say. And when it doesn’t, I spend my late nights writing about it.
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