Pity Party Hats: that’s what I would come up with for the most depressing ‘Before and After’ puzzle they could think of on Wheel of Fortune, if I were one of their writers (which is probably why I am not employed by them).
Holy shit balls today was a tough day, friends! Let’s explore why …
I work a swing shift, I get off work anywhere from midnight to 2am, depending on when I came in and/or if I decide to work late. Therefore, I don’t get up before noon on most days because I get home and take the dog for a walk, read, play video games and crash at about 3 or 4. Well, this morning I had to get up early because Sushi had a vet appointment. I rolled out of bed this morning at about 8am, after getting 5 or so hours of sleep. I figured I’d just head home afterward and take a nap, no biggie, right? WRONG. HORRIBLY, HORRIBLY WRONG.
Side note: Sushi has a great vet. He is thorough with each ‘patient’ and takes time to answer any and all questions you may have, so there is typically a bit of a wait when you get in if he is still dealing with a previous pet.
This morning was no exception. Sushi and I waited. And waited. And waited. When we finally got in to see him he told me not to worry, she was just having an allergy flare up and that all I needed was to up her dosage of Benadryl and apply some cortisone cream.
By the time we got home, I had decided it was time for some spring cleaning because I didn’t want Sushi to be reacting to something in the house. So 3 shaken blankets, liberal sprays of dusting polish and 20 minutes of vacuuming later, I was done. Fuck the dishes. They can wait. Until I die. And then someone else can do them.
At this point in my day, I’m thinking I’ll take a hot shower and relax, then get a nap before I head into work. So I get the warm water flowing, the shampoo is in the hair, so I start to wash my face. I use an oil free acne cleanser with “microbead technology”. It’s a fancy way of saying “there’s little balls about 3/4 the size of airsoft pellets for you to rub on your face and get clean, you dirty acned freak”. I’m scrubbing away at my face like normal and then BAM! PAIN! Some how I had gotten a microbead in my eye. I WAS UNWILLINGLY EXFOLIATING MY RETINA! It hurt so freaking bad and I couldn’t get my eye open long enough to get it out, so I hopped around in the shower like an epileptic attempting to do the hokey pokey. An epileptic with advanced stage tourettes, mind you.
So, after this incident, I was pretty much wide awake and there was no possibility of a nap, so I plopped down on the couch to watch Hunger Games to make myself feel better that I wasn’t being hunted through the forest and systematically murdered. It kind of helped, but then I realized that if I can’t even shower safely, how would I survive the Hunger Games? I’d like to think I’m savvy enough to murder 23 children ranging in age from 10-19, but I don’t know if I’ve got it in me.
So off to work I went! I love my job, I love the company I work for and I enjoy the company of most of my coworkers. I am the ‘nightshift manager’, (it’s in quotes because most people have no idea what my real job title means, so this is easier), I work alongside my people and give them a gentle push when they need to get back on track. However, tonight they got to see not-so-gentle Six Shooter. Three of them had been there for about a half hour, but no work had gotten done. They were just chatting. So, I spun around in my chair and the conversation went a little something like this:
Six Shooter: “Is anyone actually working over there?”
#1: “I’m on [blankity blank] show.”
#3: “I’m logging in.”
Six Shooter: “But what are you actually doing??”
#3: “Talking … internet.”
Six Shooter: “WORK!!!”
And then the boyfriend called to tell me about how I am going to have to jump through hoops to use the truck I needed to do his laundry on Friday, because he gave the truck to someone else for these days on and now his brother needs it because he’s moving this weekend. I’m pretty sure after I said “Are you freaking kidding me? You ALWAYS double book shit and now you’re hosing me again!!” I just made raptor noises into the phone for a good 30 seconds. I told him I was at work and if he could please give me a few to calm down, I would much appreciate it if he could call back. You know how I know he loves me? All he said was “You must be really stressed, I’ll call later, babe. Love you.” I have THE best man in the world.
So I called down a little bit and got my stress under control so I was prepared when he called back, I apologized and told him about my day. He listened with the patience of a saint, adding an “uh huh” or a “whaaat??” every once in awhile so I knew he was still listening. Then I went back to my station and dove into my work.
I’m tood-a-ling along in Mountain Men footage, working on an ice fishing scene when I witness something I have never seen before: a man breaking a fish’s neck. It never occurred to me before tonight that this was even possible. I don’t know why, but I’d never thought about it before and after I watched it, I couldn’t help but go back and watch it again and again.
It’s staring into my soul.
It also didn’t help that the one place to set my water just happened to be right next to the bottle of hand sanitizer. On the plus side, my lips are so clean and alcoholy fresh.
Just when I think my head might explode with my overwhelming done-ness with work, I receive an fantastic text message
And the sweetest facebook post from my fella:
I know your having a rough day baby. Just wanted to say I love you and miss you very much. I am almost always thinking about you. I hope today gets better.
As I sat there reading this message from Nick, I attempted to pull my hoodie sleeve higher up my arm, my hand slipped and I punched myself right in the boob. I am the motherfucking picture of grace.
I come home to a comfy couch and an oh-so-happy dog. The plus side of upping Sushi’s Benadryl intake is that, while she was already so loving and cuddly, she has now become Booshertin McStevens, Cuddler Extraordinaire. It took me awhile to write tonight’s blog because I didn’t want to move my right arm too much and risk disturbing her.
As promised, here is my Pity Party Hat … it wouldn’t give one to Sushi, but she was invited to the party anyway. What a freaking day.