Today is one of those days that inspire a head-shake and an exasperated, “Really?”
The morning begins with a shower where I shampoo my body and body-wash my hair.
And the afternoon brings ten fumbling, frustrating minutes of trying to make a sandwich only to discover that the Pita bread won’t open because it doesn’t open! Are you kidding me?
And moments later, when I take the first bite of my real Pita pocket sandwich, the bottom splits open and everything spills out and goes plonk on the plate.
And finally, some news from my doctor.
Apparently, I am not the only one who gets annoyed with people, my body does too! And some of my organs are protesting. (Bastards).
My heart’s hammering, migraine’s pulsating, bladder’s faking infection and my gall bladder (where is that anyway?) is feigning stones; but, wait . . .
“O.M.G., did I just wee-wee on my socks?”
Nope. That unnatural flush of warmth is hot flashes . . . IN MY FEET!
“All of your test results are “unremarkable” the doctor says, “You’re fine, but you need to work on the stress.”
That’s just marvelous.
Resigned to staying home, I walk to the sofa, dumfounded and defeated, in my jammies and my over-sized athletic socks . . .
. . . and step right into cat barf.
“But it’s not even noon yet!” I whine.
Now, before this polka dotted, hot-flashing old gal can relax, I’ve got to take my funky-ass hair and itchy skin, and go air out my feet. And my socks. And clean up the leaky non-Pita pita mess. And the gaggy cat stuff I just smooshed into the carpet.
There’s no doubt, it’s one of those days alright. Haha.
What’s my calmative mantra again?
Oh yeah . . . “Just breathe”.