“Whoa. Did she just drop the M-word on her blog?”
Yes, yes I did. Because that is the kind of week this is turning out to be. And let me tell you, IT is so not helping.
This week Mr. F. and I are looking after some kids while the parents are away curing cripples in
I am a person who loves familiarity. Nay, craves familiarity. I live by a schedule. Not a super strict schedule, but a schedule nonetheless. I like knowing what days I go running vs. taking my weight class. I like knowing what is on taps for meals during the week. I more or less know what things I am going to accomplish during work. This structure makes me happy and calm.
Now throw me into a new environment. I am now 30 minutes away from work. I need to see the kids off to school. I need to be home with in a couple of hours from when they get off. *cue Lady Susan stressing.* Until I had sat down and worked out the details, I was a wreck. *must have clarity, must have clarity* But everything was ok. Prior to the week’s beginning, I had worked all this out. I felt like the week would go smoothly.
And then……came then……
We get less than an inch accumulation of snow.
I know. PANIC.
Tuesday, the day it snowed, the schools closed early, even though the roads were clear and it had stopped snowing before noon. The “wintery mix” (a.k.a. freezing rain) wasn’t cued to start until 11 p.m. My work plans for that day came to a halt—I had to leave earlier from work than I had intended. "No biggie," I thought, "there was always tomorrow."
Wednesday, schools closed all together. The snow that was on the grass and the trees but not the roads, had turned to ice. Obviously, the conditions outside were too treacherous for the buses to run. The kids celebrated, of course. I kissed another day’s productivity goodbye—because although I could go into work for a few hours, I didn’t feel like I could leave the kids alone for an entire day. All day Wednesday, I looked forward to that evening when I knew that the kids would be gone at youth activities for two hours. The oldest girl had just received her driver’s license, and she would drive them. All that was left for me to do was soak up the silence and perhaps update my blog. It would be lovely.
But this was not the week where things go as planned.
The oldest girl got sick to her stomach. The neighboring family wasn’t answering their phones (punks!), and no other ride could be found. I spent the night instead chauffeuring.
Thursday, or today, I was woken up to the phone ringing at 5:15: There was a two hour delay. A delay--even though there was no precipitation yesterday and temperatures had warmed up to above freezing during the day and had melted most of the snow and ice. I guess there was still some residual solid water left on a few patches of grass and in the odd ditch. In any case, it was deemed by management to be Too Risky. Again, my day was cut up into little pieces: a couple of hours working at the house, a few more hours at the lab, etc. I had to field the questions of "Were you able to get this done?" "Are you done with your thesis edits, yet? You don't want to wait too long."
Then, as if that wasn't enough to want to slit my wrists, there was the comedy of errors where nothing I did could go right. Pick up the CSA produce: get stuck up to the axles in mud (more on that tomorrow). Pick up my prescription: find that I am not covered by the insurance even though it says on my card that coverage started the 4th. And on and on it goes.
And where has Mr. F. been while the sky has been falling? He’s been working double shifts. To which I say (sarcastically): at least one of us is being productive. I am a bit peeved that he can go about his normal routine irrespective of the panicky nature of the county’s school system. He hasn’t had to pretend to be jolly when greeting the kids after school. Nor has he had to whip up dinner and watch them pretend to like it.
The greatest offence though: he hasn’t been here to cajole me out of my foul temper when my schedule was messed up yet again.
And the whole point of this post? I probably would have been able to roll with the punches a lot easier if I hadn’t also been feeling like crap. Because it is really hard to be sympathetic to a girl who is sick to her stomach when your lower abdomen feels like it is in some sort of vice grip. And it is hard to be flexible when all you want to do is curl up into a ball and just make it until The Next Minute until your IB Profin kicks in.