Just One of Those Days...

 

I am having one of the worst days ever! I mean one of those days where you are like...”I should have never gotten out of bed today because my day has been so crappy” days! It all started with the all elusive alarm clock...you know that trusty thing that is supposed TO WAKE YOU UP? Yeah in theory it is a great invention, the only glitch is that it is not child proof! So my daughter apparently was playing with the alarm clock...now you all in cyber blogging land are all like “why in the hell would you let your 2 year old play with your alarm clock?” Yeah...well my husband was watching her...need I say more? I had no idea that she was farting around with my alarm clock, so stupid me, does not check the time of the alarm, I just set it like I normally do, and then pass out. You know when you wake up, and you are like “...hmmm I wonder what time it is?” and then you roll over blink a couple of times because you are still trying to focus on those bright blue digital lights that are flashing at you, and as you focus on what appears to be a 7 instead of a 5, you kind of start wig out as the realization hits that you are sooooo freaking late? Bingo...that is what happened to me this morning! Why is it that every time you are in a hurry everything takes so much longer to do? I swear that it took me a butt load longer to get ready than I normally do, and when I go to get in the car, ah yeah, there is no gas in it! Really? I have to go on a husband rant here...why is it that whenever you have to get in your husband's car it NEVER has any gas in it? I mean this car was sooo low it was on like fumes, and I was like SERIOUSLY? So I squeal out of the drive way like my ass is on fire, all the while praying that I can make it to the gas station, and when I get there, of course there are NO lanes open! I am like beating the steering wheel at this point, and as I wait in line behind the slowest person on the planet, I am like tapping my fingers on the staring wheel, as I stare down the clock, all the while thinking how screwed I am that I am late! Finally the dude gets in his truck and so when I finally get to the gas pump and I put my ATM card in, I notice that there is a sign telling me that the pay at the pump is broken, so NOW I have to go inside to pay!? By this time, I am thinking to myself, that I must have really done something bad to someone or something to get this type of karma come my way! While contemplating all of the ill acts that I have done to people, and who might actually be a practicing voodoo priestess, I wait the 10 minutes to pay, and then finally get my gas. Thinking that the day, has to get better, I pull out of the gas station and proceed the whole 7 miles to work, and as I approach the freeway, I realize that the freeway is closed, and that I have to take a detour...yeah...they make me turn around and go back the way that I just came! By this time,. I am contemplating getting my own voodoo doll and just torturing myself...what the hell? I finally make it to work, and when I finally swoop into the work place, and try to settle down, I catch my nail on drawer, and break it so far down that it is now bleeding! At that very moment, I was at my last string of sanity, and as I sat there sucking on my finger, while I frantically searched through my purse for a band aid, I told myself that I should have NEVER got out of bed! If I told you that my day got any better, I would be a lying sack of crap because work is never fun, but the good thing is that my day is almost over, and as I close out this bloggary, I can safely say, that not one more bad thing can happen to me...well that is unless my computer takes a dump and I lose this lovely vent fest called a blog post! So if this is posted, you all in cyber blog land will know that at least my computer is dependable...thank God at least something worked in my favor today!

Crows Feet, Laugh Lines, and Botox O My!

OK...so my birthday is coming up...can I just say that I hate my birthday?! If we take a short walk down memory lane, I used to remember birthday's as being so exciting with the anticipation of “The Day” being a lot of excruciatingly long days filled with dreams of the new Strawberry Shortcake doll or a new pony! You just knew that on your day, a bunch of toys and birthday cake was coming your way, and usually on your birthday, the odds of getting your ass chewed was like a million to one. It was a great day. Let's fast forward to today....instead of a Coach bag, I will probably get some major appliance as my major birthday present; I have to say that getting a blender for your birthday is just not right...not right at all. Not to mention that the infamous birthday cake and I are definitely at odds since the Holiday Binge of 2011, and it is just a given that I will probably get my ass chewed at any given time, whether it is my birthday or not (family and managers have zero regard for birthday ass chewing etiquette), so seriously why bother? It is just another day right? I was trying to explain that very fact to my skin today as I was using that damn 20x mirror...those mirrors should be outlawed, BTW but with my eyes going to crap, an old fart needs to use the freaking' magnifying glass from hell just to put on eyeliner. What a depressing scene right? So as I was staring at my laugh lines in the mirror, all the while cursing the stupid Neutrogena anti wrinkle cream ad for selling me a bunch of lies ( there really is no such thing as rapid wrinkle repair...ask my forehead, it will tell you in great detail), I was trying to remember what young skin looked like...seriously...I am a nut job. I had to take a step back and chuckle because I was obsessing over it like a school girl crushes over the hot totally unavailable high school quarter back. I found myself thinking about my laugh lines throughout the day, and whenever I looked in a normal mirror, of course without any witnesses, I found myself nose to nose with it checking out the state of my old ass skin. I am a certifiable crazy person...just issue me an I Love Me jacket and I am right there with all of the other delusional wacko's. So, the elephant in the room question is...why am I obsessing over this aging thing? I should be happy that as I get older, my life is getting better right? I am definitely in a better financial situation than when I was in my 20's/30's', I have a great family, my daughter is awesome BUT I have to tell ya...the only time that anyone glances my way, is if I have cake on my face or my fly is down...it is definitely NOT because I have “my Jennifer Aniston on” ( that is my term for a certain hotness factor...Angelina Jolie is so 2010! Ha!) Honestly that is really what is bothering the crap out of me...I have come to the realization that it just goes down hill from here...I need to try to embrace my laugh lines, crows feet, and age spots with as much dignity as I can muster and with a little help from my facialist , I just might make it past my birthday without drinking myself into an age induced stupor; laying off the tequila would probably help my skin tone, but I am NOT seriously that desperate to give up martini's for the sake of a few crows feet! A girl's got limits...on the other hand, I might just have a full out hissy fit which would totally help out my mental state but would probably NOT be helping my anger brow problem ( those are what I cause those nasty forehead creases ). I will have to think on the ramifications of that approach...hmmmmmmm to hissy or not to hissy THAT is the real question. Yeah...I am betting on the full on hissy fit....so much easier...so much easier!

Seriously?

Men and Colds

OK...so my whole family is sick. I am not talking about just the sniffles here, I am talking about full bore coughing with a whole lot of phlegm. Gross...I know. A little too much over share there, but I have to let you know how bad the cold really is. My poor daughter is in the last stages of the cold, so I am pretty happy about that, but seriously....what is up with men when they get sick? So I am not saying that I am the super woman of colds here, like I can withstand any illness and still fight crime, but COME ON...it seems like men get the sniffles and all of the sudden, they can't pee without your help?! It appears that once men get the first sign that they are not feeling well, their wives become some sort of servant that has to cater to their every needs? It is almost like they have time traveled through some pathetic illness time traveling worm hole, and we have become their mother. It is all of the constant whining, and complaining about how crappy they feel, all the while we have to cater to their every needs just to shut them up. Some people would call that being an enabler...I call it shutting the poor fool up so I can get some peace! Oh and don't get me started on what starts to go down, if I even start to complain that I feel like crap because, you have to remember it is ALL about them. I only go down that rabbit hole when I am sooooo frustrated that I just cannot take it any more and I just snap. He gets the full force of my anger with some choice colorful language, combined with a couple of hand signals, and I can tell you that he gets the picture...and it is totally high definition, and in widescreen. I have just provided him the IMAX version of this picture with THX audio, and he is like”...I am sooooo sick and you are being so mean...” Seriously...are we five here. I feel like that bully on the playground beating up the fat kid...what the hell? Not to mention the constant bugging/begging for juice, medicine, blankets, the TV remote or whatever he is too lazy to go get up and get for himself. I know that I have hit the “rock bottom” of the illness when I sit there and watch him take pulls from the Nyquil bottle like it was a flask of Bubba moonshine from some illegal distillery in the deep south. To tell you that I am looking forward to him feeling better is an understatement...I am just waiting for him to start traveling back through the time traveling worm hole, where he is no longer whiny, cranky, and annoying...just back to being a dumb ass. Is that too much to ask? Seeing that he is still sick...apparently it is.