{terrible}

As in terrible horrible no good very bad day.

It was just one of those days. I should have known. I saw the warnings. 

5:15 this morning my alarm went off, and I snoozed it. 5:20 my alarm went off, snoozed it. 5:25 my alarm went off, snoozed it. 5:30, 5:35 and 5:40 it did the same thing, and I snoozed it. My alarm went off again at 5:45 and I managed to squeeze out a chuckle at how pissed Chris would be if he was here and had to listen to that, before I turned it off. Clearly working out this morning was not in the cards.

At exactly 7:07 I shot out of bed with such a fury, listing off all the things I had to do in my head before 7:30, the time I told myself I was going to leave for work. Ponytail, big chunky sweater, slacks, speed makeup and I was ready at 7:40. Miracle. (Then again, I had skipped coffee, breakfast, packing a lunch AND brushing my teeth. meh.)

On my way to work I visited my favorite Starbucks (totally out of the way and not close at all). I almost got hit turning left into the parking lot across traffic, because the person in front of me slowed to 0mph and the back half of my car was still sticking out in the road. Awesome. Fearing death, I honked, hoping they would speed up and spare my life. Nope. An oncoming car barely missed grazing my bumper before I made it into the parking lot. Which was followed by the one finger wave, glare, dirty looks and the slowest parking lot driving on record. Apparently survival tactics are not appreciated here.

I walked into Starbucks, already tired from today, and there she was. The loud & crazy barista. (NOOoOoOOoO!) Now I'm all for spirit and cheer, but not at 7:45 in the morning, pre-coffee, cranky, and feeling a terrible day coming on. But there she was nonetheless. Me = praying to the coffee line checkout gods that I get helped by the other, gentle and calm barista.

Yeah right, that would be too easy. Enter, chipper barista 

Barista: OMG I LOVE YOUR HEADBANDDDD!! I LOVE IT! LOVE IT! THE FLOWER ITS SO PRECIOUS AND CUUUTE!

Me: Thanks. (Crazy.)

Barista: WHAT CAN I GET FOR YOUUUUU THIS WONDERFUL MORNING!!

Me: Do you have Christmas blend brewing? (They better). Can I have a grande with gingerbread syrup, please. No room. (Cause I'm feeling extreme).

Barista: OMGGGG THAT SOUNDS SO DELICIOUS AND CHRISTMASAYYYY!! I LOVE IT!

I could continue, but I wont. It hurts me enough to repeat that portion of the conversation. I left Starbucks, frazzled. I hopped on the freeway into traffic (big surprise), which turned out to be caused purely because people were slowing to look at an accident up ahead (big surprise). I ran my work errand and was cruisin to work nice and early as planned. Enter, police vehicle. Swerves into direct position behind me. Damn. Naturally, I start sweating like I have been on the run for some hideous crime I committed and have yet to be caught. Mostly, I start worrying that he can tell that my front license plate is from WA with expired tabs, and the back one is from AZ with new tabs. (Is that legal? Perhaps I should fix that).

We are at a red light. He is squinting and staring at my car. I laugh, because his bullet proof vest has squished up past his neck and he keeps trying to shove it down, like life vests always do when you’re in water. Still staring at my car, then he leans forward and really stares. I realize he is checking my plates after I see him typing something into his floating computer. “OH NO!” I think. “He is going to find out about....uh....hmm....nothing.” There is nothing on my record. Maybe the one time I ran a stoplight DIRECTLY in front of a cop. (I was young, dumb & stressed out. Stupid 20 year olds).

The light finally turned green and he turned right, leaving me to deal with my elevated heart rate and sweaty palms.

I finally made it to work. Still with me? I barely was. The remainder of the morning was normal. I read some terrible headlines in the newspaper. I choked on my granola at lunch. The printer as broken so every time I needed to print (which was a lot) I had to run across to the other end of the other office building. 

I ate a truffle at 3, it helped. I was super busy all day and was only comforted by the fact I'm wearing my new fuzzy grandpa sweater. 

Even now when I’m home from work I still feel grumpy, ponchy, bloated and pissed off. Permanent scowl. The bad & scary time of the month is here to stay.

Chris is taking me to da mooovays (shortay!) tonight and as long is I get to wear comfy sweats I am sure (hopeful) it will make this day better:)