It all started yesterday night when I... well you know what, I have no idea what I was actually attempting to do, but the result was me scratching myself with my engagement ring, on my face. It bled.
And bled some more.
Fiance tried to help me with that shaving trick guys do where they stick a little piece of tissue on a nick, but it didn't stop. It was like my blood cells were on strike from the coagulating union because their pensions suck.
So I ended up putting a bandaid on it, and now I look like Nelly.
It gives me street cred.
This morning, I got up bright and early (AKA- 9AM), and settled on the couch to check e-mail with my usual giant cup of joe. All was well until I spilt liquid hot magma coffee all down the front of me and my robe.
I promptly put the robe in the wash and started the day's to-do list. It included dusting all the things. Which I actually got done with some success, so I guess there's one plus.
After cleaning the house, I lit some candles to get rid of the pine-fresh scent of all the cleaning products. One was an almost done candle, so the wick was way down in the jar. I managed to light my finger on fire. Just the nail, but still. Burnt nail smells... not pretty.
I washed Bub and Mac - a clean smelling house don't go well with a stinky cat or dog. There was a kink in the hose. I didn't know until I inadvertently gave myself a second shower for the day.
Changed my clothes and went to put the soggy stuff I was wearing in the wash. That's when I noticed the dryer was making a clanking noise. I realized that I hadn't seen my phone since the morning coffee incident. This is why robes shouldn't have pockets - when being worn, no one's ever awake enough to remember what's in them.
A moment of silence for my phone.
After collecting myself from absolute panic (That phone can call the states! Sure it costs a bunch of money, but it IS capable of phoning HOME. ...It had also been a way better camera for blogging than the cruddy little web cam on the computer.), I put the battery in a bag of rice per every internet article about phones ever.
Then I thought; "I haven't seen Mac in a few moments."
He was on the bed. That I had just made. Rolling around making big soggy spot in the middle.
I took a deep breath, scolded Mac, remade the bed with fresh sheets, and tromped back downstairs to put away the dishes. I was trying to harness my chi and find my mantra.
Nothing that happened today is worth getting too upset about, there was nothing that could be done about them, and in the end, everyone was okay. Nothing that happened today...
And then a rogue piece of tupperware fell out of the cupboard as I opened it.
Upon whence, I officially lost my sh*t.
It is a very good thing that the little girls across the street do not know English.
Because the windows were definitely open, and I was definitely screaming.
Ever had a day like this? What was the absurd straw that broke your camel's back?