Thursday, June 18, 2009

Not the End of the World

So Tuesday came and went and everything was...fine. Actually, better than fine. It was pretty good. There was no meltdown (for me). I didn't cry in the car on the way to work or hide in the bathroom with my grief once I got there.

Getting there was a spectacular exercise in stupid though, and I thought I was in for just the type of day I was expecting.

Monday night I went to sleep still so anxious about the day ahead and worried about leaving enough milk for Bo that after I fed him on Tuesday morning, I pumped some more. Which put me behind in my timing to get ready. So rushing out the door with my giant messenger bag/pump carrier and my purse and without the completed portions of my big at home project, which I left sitting by the door where I had put them so as not to forget them. Awesome.

When I got to the garage where I needed to park, the other person had parked way too far over into my spot so I had to really squeeze in which left me no room to get out of the car. I had to climb over the console to the passenger side to get out. At which point I saw that I hadn't pulled up far enough to shut the garage door. Do you see where this is going? That's right, had to climb back over console, shut the passenger door from the drivers side - because of course my car will not start with an open door, pull up, and then climb back over and out again.

Walking down the street with my bags, two sets of keys, and my phone in hand, can you guess what got dropped? That's right folks, the phone. In front of two painter/construction worker guys having their morning coffee and waiting for their day to start. Only after picking up the phone and walking around the corner do I realize that the tracball had popped out and there was a gaping hole in the middle of my phone. Does the piece of crap Blackberry at all without that particular little piece of plastic? No. So I had to go back around the corner and search the ground for it. In front of the same guys who say, "aww did it break?" To which I wanted to answer, "Do you find this funny? Because I will cut you." instead of just smiling and saying something generic like, "yeah, I do it all the time".

It was about 7:15 and I was already thinking FAIL. But it wasn't so bad.

It was actually kind of nice. *gasp*

It was nice to get myself ready to go somewhere alone. It was great to get out of the house by myself. I enjoyed driving my windy road blasting the radio without worrying about someone crashing into us or the music being too loud for tiny ear drums. It was, I'll admit, awesome to walk down the street without looking like a mom. Getting checked out by creepy painter guys notwithstanding.

My kids were so happy to see me and we had a wonderful ride to their camp chatting and laughing, just like our rides to school before I left. The rest of the day flew by. It was the same nonsense it always has been. I wouldn't say I got any work done but then, I rarely did before. I picked the kids up from camp, did some more fake ass office work, went with one of the kids to the bakery, drank coffee and ate a cupcake, and then went home.

What I did not manage to do was pump at work. I could not get it together to tell my boss I needed to do it, which is so lame. Could I be a bigger sissy? I know! But it never seemed like a good time and to be honest, between the bullcrap work I was doing and the driving around, there really wasn't a good time to take a break and do it. I wasn't too uncomfortable by the time I left. I did manage to sneak it in on Wednesday while the boss was in physical therapy. The whole thing is so weird. More on that in my upcoming post, "breastfeeding can suck it".

I didn't get the pun there till I just read what I typed. Am a literary genius.

Anyway, I went to work and the world didn't end. My boy was sleeping when I got home and happy to see me when he woke up. Or I was happy to see him and projected the rest. Either way I'll take it.

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