Tomorrow begins another Monday. And I am feeling a little more prepared than last week at this time. I just hope I don't have a repeat of last Monday.
Last week on Monday I had gotten up with the intention of getting to work earlier than usual. I woke right up to my alarm was out of bed and on schedule. As I was making my way around our kitchen eating breakfast and putting together a lunch I noticed that a small packet of Neosporin that had been left on the counter after I had sliced a finger the night prior, was now on the floor. Upon further inspection I found that there were tiny puncture marks, just the size of cat teeth, which left the remaining contents of the packet oozing through the holes. I checked the ingredients....primarily petroleum jelly. But there is a warning saying if it is ingested one should call poison control. So I get a little panicky and wake up my husband and track down the number for the emergency vet clinic to see what they can tell us. All in all, it took us about 20 minutes to figure out, thanks to the interwebs, that our kitten was totally fine.
So now I am behind schedule, rushing around the house to finish up and make my way out the door. I hop in my car. Open the garage door. Start pulling out of the garage and...thunk! I couldn't see anything outside my rear window so my initial thought was that I hit a dog or a child. That's not good. I rush out of the car to find that my husband had left our grill in the driveway the night before and now it had toppled and spilled spent charcoal all over our drive way. As I was already frazzled from all the other drama my brain just stopped working. I could not get from point A to point B. Do I throw the grill in the bushes and simply drive over all the charcoal ultimately making a bigger mess? Or do I wake up my husband and make him help me clean this all up now? My brain kept flipping between to options while my body was frantically pacing back and forth between the front door and the mess in our driveway. The entire time I am muttering to myself and gesticulating like George Costanza.
I finally make it to work only to realize that there is about a 1/2" split in the seam of my skirt right at my hip. Hmmm. So I think, you know, I am a desk monkey now. It's not like I am running laps around a store like I used to. Perhaps I can just discreetly cover the split with my arm whenever I end up standing up. It takes me about 30 minutes to realize that this plan is going to end up as an epic failure as every time I shift in my chair the split gets a little bigger. If left to it's own devices my skirt was going to have a major wardrobe malfunction by the end of the day. Now, I am not sure if you are all aware of this but I am NOT the type of girl to keep any sort of sewing kit on my person. In fact, my ability to quite feebly mend any piece of clothing is just shy of miraculous. So it should be noted that I had no needle, no thread, and no safety pin. After searching my wallet for anything I might be able to McGuyver into repairing my skirt I realized what I had to do. I grabbed my stapler and as surreptitiously made my way into the lobby, past security and into the bathroom. Me, my ripped skirt and stapler. Why yes, I AM the epitome of class.
That was last Monday morning.....here's hopin' tomorrow goes a little smoother.