Mismatch of a slow start for a busy day
I woke up at 4:30 with a migraine, managed to traipse to the kitchen, find the Zomig without turning on the light and climb back into bed. At 6:45 I awaken again, groggy, but sans migraine.
Hubby ordered oatmeal for me from the corner restaurant. Do you have ANY idea how complicated and conflicted life becomes with a restaurant on the corner by your house? The oatmeal is good and reasonably healthy even if I do like mine with extra brown sugar and cream. I pick it up before driving through the donut shop on the other side of the street for coffee. Oh yes. There is also a wonderful Mom and Pop donut shop on the next block over from my house. Location. Location. Location.
The first stop light seems long, so I remove the top from the coffee for that first hot sip. Alas, just as the top comes off my coffee the light changes. So I sit there long enough to savor the coffee. I replace the lid and take off just before the light turns to red. Fortunately not many cars were around to observe this lunacy.
Much better than yesterday when I didn’t get a sip to drink in the car, and then managed to drop the Styrofoam cup on the floor trying to get my computer bag, lunch, purse, book bag and coffee into my office before racing to a meeting for which I was already late. I then burned my hand attempting to preserve at least a little of that wonderful brown stuff by holding the cup together until I could run to the lunchroom for a smaller cup. Yesterday I saved about 4 ounces of the precious liquid. Today? I drank the whole thing, to the last drop. All 20 ounces!
Next stop, the pharmacy. Yesterday I made a list of all meds and went for refills trying to coordinate the refills for the same time of the month. Success! Except for one. Oh well. Nothing is perfect.
The pharmacist stabbed his finger on a staple. He spent the next 5 minutes removing all staples so that the same fate would not occur to me. His finger bled profusely at least half a drop. God forbid such bloodletting should occur to me, too!
Drugs in hand, well, actually in car, I continued to school. Getting out of the car I realize that I don’t have my keys or I.D. Keys. Yikes. I keep my purse in my office and need to have it locked when I’m not in there. Not today. So I get the penguin key (another long story) from the office. Before I can leave a parent is there before the Spanish-speaking liaison (Doesn’t it seem like that word has an extra “i”?) arrives. So I translate.
She received a phone call yesterday about a dress code issue that must be taken care of immediately or there will be consequences. On the phone she had said she didn’t know anything about it. She’s here now asking for an extension of time. Sure. Monday is fine. But she’s irritated at the short notice. (I’m translating). The student has been notified three times. She says she just found out. So, not translating, just adding my two cents, I say, “Well, kids are like that. They sometimes just don’t tell us right away.”
Her reply? “My son is very responsible. He always tells me everything right away.”
I don’t go there. Either he told you or he didn’t, I’m thinking. Then, it dawned on me. Of course!!! It wasn’t the child who didn’t notify his mother. It was the principal and the office staff who are just SAYING they told the child. But really they didn’t. Because “My Son” is very responsible. It’s all of YOU who are…. Oh well…. It’s that kind of day.
Besides, I have a lovely warm cup of coffee calling my name.
I woke up at 4:30 with a migraine, managed to traipse to the kitchen, find the Zomig without turning on the light and climb back into bed. At 6:45 I awaken again, groggy, but sans migraine.
Hubby ordered oatmeal for me from the corner restaurant. Do you have ANY idea how complicated and conflicted life becomes with a restaurant on the corner by your house? The oatmeal is good and reasonably healthy even if I do like mine with extra brown sugar and cream. I pick it up before driving through the donut shop on the other side of the street for coffee. Oh yes. There is also a wonderful Mom and Pop donut shop on the next block over from my house. Location. Location. Location.
The first stop light seems long, so I remove the top from the coffee for that first hot sip. Alas, just as the top comes off my coffee the light changes. So I sit there long enough to savor the coffee. I replace the lid and take off just before the light turns to red. Fortunately not many cars were around to observe this lunacy.
Much better than yesterday when I didn’t get a sip to drink in the car, and then managed to drop the Styrofoam cup on the floor trying to get my computer bag, lunch, purse, book bag and coffee into my office before racing to a meeting for which I was already late. I then burned my hand attempting to preserve at least a little of that wonderful brown stuff by holding the cup together until I could run to the lunchroom for a smaller cup. Yesterday I saved about 4 ounces of the precious liquid. Today? I drank the whole thing, to the last drop. All 20 ounces!
Next stop, the pharmacy. Yesterday I made a list of all meds and went for refills trying to coordinate the refills for the same time of the month. Success! Except for one. Oh well. Nothing is perfect.
The pharmacist stabbed his finger on a staple. He spent the next 5 minutes removing all staples so that the same fate would not occur to me. His finger bled profusely at least half a drop. God forbid such bloodletting should occur to me, too!
Drugs in hand, well, actually in car, I continued to school. Getting out of the car I realize that I don’t have my keys or I.D. Keys. Yikes. I keep my purse in my office and need to have it locked when I’m not in there. Not today. So I get the penguin key (another long story) from the office. Before I can leave a parent is there before the Spanish-speaking liaison (Doesn’t it seem like that word has an extra “i”?) arrives. So I translate.
She received a phone call yesterday about a dress code issue that must be taken care of immediately or there will be consequences. On the phone she had said she didn’t know anything about it. She’s here now asking for an extension of time. Sure. Monday is fine. But she’s irritated at the short notice. (I’m translating). The student has been notified three times. She says she just found out. So, not translating, just adding my two cents, I say, “Well, kids are like that. They sometimes just don’t tell us right away.”
Her reply? “My son is very responsible. He always tells me everything right away.”
I don’t go there. Either he told you or he didn’t, I’m thinking. Then, it dawned on me. Of course!!! It wasn’t the child who didn’t notify his mother. It was the principal and the office staff who are just SAYING they told the child. But really they didn’t. Because “My Son” is very responsible. It’s all of YOU who are…. Oh well…. It’s that kind of day.
Besides, I have a lovely warm cup of coffee calling my name.
3 comments:
Oh my!! I don't think I even *want* to know all the things my children haven't told me. I like to remain blissfully unaware! LOL
Sheesh! And to think she actually believes that.
You really don't get paid enough. But now I must ask: ordering oatmeal to go? Really? Why is that funny to me? It's not really any different than ordering soup to go. But somehow, in my head ... that's really funny. Oh well. I know you love me anyway.
It IS funny! Terribly, awfully funny! BUT... I don't have a throw away bowl with a tight lid so it won't spill. And I don't have burned "stuff" in the bottom of a pan sitting in the sink all day. And it's CHEAP!! $2.30. For $2.30 I get the bowl with a fitted lid, the sugar in a container with a lid. The cream in sealed little containers. All spill proof...well until I rip them open. . . LOL
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