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Monday, October 16, 2006

Diane and the Terrible, Horrible, Awful Day

Those of us who grew up in the 1980's know that Saturday the 14th is totally more heinous than Friday the 13th, right? Right.

I'm all about proving ridiculous theories.

So my Saturday starts off like this. It's my turn to make snacks for Stanky's soccer team. Traditionally, when it's my turn for snacks, I make yummy breakfast burritos for the whole sideline. Since Stank's game was at 8:45 a.m. and I didn't want to have to get up at the ass crack of dawn, I decide to pre-make the filling items (chorizo and a potato mixture) Friday night. Thank God for that.

Saturday morning comes and I hit snooze at least twice before rising. I get my coffee started and wash some dishes from the night before to give myself more room in the kitchen, all while reheating the burrito stuffins' in the microwave. I get Queeniethebestlittlehelperofalltime up out of bed and we get a real system going. She heats the tortillas in the microwave and I roll. We get about 18 burritos deep...and the power goes out.

A planned outage. Whyohwhy do they send those damned notices out so far in advance? Of course, it was posted to the fridge so I wouldn't forget, but really, I put it there three weeks ago or something. So. Shit. At least I've got 18 done. There are only 7 kids on the team, so I know I at least have them covered. I'm hoping, at this point, that the Capri Suns I threw in the freezer just a short time ago will have enough time to really get cold.

Meanwhile, Stanky is now up and looking for her soccer uniform. Which, of course, she cannot find. Why? Because she wore it to my sister-in-law's house last weekend after her game when she went over to play and spend the night. Oh yeah, and said sister-in-law is out of town this weekend. Craptastic.

No uniform means no play. I resolve myself to this, as pissy as it makes me, and call my mother who is keeping my niece and nephew and bringing them to the game (niece plays on the same team with Stanky). I explain my shitter of a day so far, and ask her to come by and retrieve the snacks on her way to the game.

At this point, I'm just shooting to make it to Queenie's game on time at 9:30 a.m. Stanky, who only randomly even likes soccer, has a monumental meltdown over not being able to play. I finally calm her down by promising to leave for Queenie's game early to go to the playground while the team warmed up.

Mom doesn't get to my house until theee last minute to pick up the snacks. We rush around and get her back out the door. Two minutes later, she's back. Her car is dead. Completely.fucking.dead. As in no electrical, no nothing. Fuck.me.

We play around in the engine for a few minutes in a piss poor attempt to figure out whatinthehell is wrong. Finally, I decide I'd better just run the snacks over to the game, because by now, it's half way over. I run around trying to get myself ready while the rest of my house is basically in chaos. Now we've got all three of my girls running around not ready and we've added my niece and nephew to the mix. Pokeboy slept through all of this. Damned teenager.

Before I can leave, Pinky decides to perform his latest trick - run out the front door and keep on running because nobodycancatchmeyayayayay! Fun stuff.

I begin to wonder what else can go wrong but try to refrain from voicing my pondering aloud because, undoubtedly, something can.

The plan is for me to meet Mom and the kids at the park. Since the park is only a half mile or so from my house, they will walk there.

By the time I get back from dropping off the snacks, and stopping at Starbucks for a heavenly concoction with an extra shot of espresso (they don't do shots of whiskey, believe me, I asked), I find a great parking spot at the park and get out, on time, for Queenie's game. That's when I realize that my chairs are not in my trunk, like usual, but on my garage floor. Goodbye good parking spot. Goodbye ontimeness. Back to the house I go.

The game turned out to be great. Queenie scored two goals. The other kids had fun at the park. My bestest friend and her mom came to the game and that was fun.

By the time I got home, I was wiped. I saw little choice, really, but to unmake my bed and climb back into the covers I never should have forsaken. Of course, while I was pseudo-napping, my phone rang 4 times, my kids ran amok and made enough noise to wake the dead and, apparently, someone shot my car with a paintball gun right in my driveway.

Sigh.

One of the calls was my cousin offering me a free ticket to go to a charity function at Fort Washington Country Club. But, frankly, I was afraid to leave my house.

posted by *******DIANE******* @ 9:14 AM

2 Comments:

At 11:11 AM, Kimberly said…

Yikes! I don't blame you for staying house-bound after that morning. I hope Sunday was better.
At 1:51 PM, Anonymous said…

Even though you told me as every tragedy happened, it still sounds funny when I'm reading it. Of course it does because this wasn't happening to me.lol