One of ‘those’ days

Ordinarily, I’m not fond of Wednesdays. They tend to have a few dark clouds over them. Today, though, the one Big Thing that doesn’t always go easily, well, went splendidly. And for that, the horah was danced.

It’s just EVERYTHING ELSE that’s been crap.

I had my office door closed all day. I opted to not put on makeup because I got busy right away and, hell, why put on makeup for only a couple of hours at the end of the day?

I need to somehow write 5,000 words for my NaNoWriMo project. Like, tonight. Good news is that the deadline is midnight. Better news is that it’s midnight in a time zone that’s a few hours behind mine!

This morning, everything started going haywire, from cat antics to jamming my new vacuum cleaner with the cat leash to smoking up the house because of it. Then I ironed all sorts of clothes and not only wore the wrong shirt out of the house, but I also FORGOT my blazer that I’d planned to wear. Hence half the reason for hiding in the office all day.

But wait, there’s more.

So I cut the back of my thigh shaving. I didn’t bother putting on pantyhose until sometime around noonish, at which time I realized I’d bled all over my light-gray office chair. (And neither that stupid Tide stick nor those Shout wipes will do the trick, goddamn it.)

It was one of those days that I REALLY needed to go outside for some fresh air midday — whereupon I see I messed up my light-gray car seat. Hot damn.

At lunch, I got an eggnog latte (mmm) and a sammich. I also bought cat food, as the girls are starving. I also bought a sweet treat for the end of the workday, as that sugar rush is crucial. Well, guess who forgot the sweet treat in the car but who DID bring in a can of fucking cat food? Christ.

That would be the same girl who dropped her half-eaten focaccia sandwich on the floor that hasn’t been vacuumed since, um, APRIL. That would be “fuckaccia” in my world!

*waves goodbye to lunch, hello to bread and meat droppings all over the floor*

And you know how much I hate UPS, but really, I hate companies more that refuse to ship to P.O. Boxes. I have been waiting and WAITING for a product that I need to, oh, supplement my health, shall we say.

And because I hate the semantics of having to have UPS deliver it to my house (where I never AM) and then re-route my packages to the UPS office in my ‘hood where I have to stand in line 100 years and deal with snarky, cranky-ass employees, I had it sent to work.

Days have gone by, and no sign of the package. So I went to track it today, only to find that I never put a company name with the address and UPS wanted to send it back. So I had to call and beg for it to be redelivered for tomorrow. And the thing is? I blame no one but myself. I’m so accustomed to shipping shit TO MY FUCKING P.O. BOX that I didn’t think to type in the company name, just the street. *big sigh*

If it doesn’t come tomorrow, I am so totally blowing my brains out.

I’m sure there have been a thousand other irritants, but I’m getting really depressed, just reading about my day that isn’t even the slightest bit close to ending yet. Whee.

One Lonely Response to One of ‘those’ days

  1. Barb :

    Just freewrite the last 5,000. Hell, add this post to it, if you want to? Why not? 🙂