Okay, so nobody died. But it still sucked. I guess it was just a lot of little things that all went wrong, and made me all kinds of cranky!

Gentle reader, if you manage to get through this... I applaud you. This is a pretty bad day.

First of all, Husbando is off camping this week. So that means I'm on my own at the house. Well, Dad lives with me, and so do our pets, but you know what I mean. So already I'm thrown off, because I have to take care of everything. Normally he does the chores, and I take care of the bills. We split stuff about 50/50, I guess. Bills are due this week (you know, middle of the month) and then I have to clean the house and all that on top of it.

So I'm already in a bad mood, because I'm doing twice what I would normally do, and I don't have the benefit of having a companion to complain about it to. And, there's nobody here to scratch my back! Nobody is here to hand me tissues when I sneeze!  Geez. So that's how it started off.

I get up early. 4:15 a.m.  But this day, I was woken up at 3:00 a.m. by a cat who felt that my face, specifically my air access area, was the best place to sit. I don't think she realizes that I need to breathe, or I can't feed her. So that was fun, and I couldn't go back to sleep after that, really. I tried, but the kitty kept kind of complaining with little chirps because I wouldn't let her murder me. Sorry, cat, maybe next time. So up I get at 4:15 a.m. All is normal in the getting ready process, and I'm out the door by 4:30 a.m. (I shower and pick out my outfit the night before). About halfway down Broadway I see the blue lights.

Yep. Pulled over. Why? In my annoyed state, I had my daytime running lights on, but not my real headlights. The very nice, superhero cop decided not to give me a ticket, even after I fumbled with my insurance app on my phone for a good five panicked minutes before finding my printed out copy. He then comes back to my window and tells me that my car license plate isn't on the right vehicle.

So again, I'm panicking. What, is he gonna arrest me and think that I stole my car?! No, again, this brilliant example of everything that is good and honest in the world, just said to call the DMV and take care of it. So I dodged a bullet there. The day hadn't even started yet - and here I am, already in paperwork trouble at 4:35 a.m.

Later on a break, I call the DMV, and after about ten minutes, the lady tells me that she doesn't understand why the plates didn't transfer when I paid the fee and all that, especially since I have the title in my hand.  She says sometimes these things happen, and they can't fix it unless I come in. I have to make ANOTHER trip to everyone's favorite place, the DMV. Yaaay.

Now for my next phone errand on the list. For a long time, I had to have my hair long, because it wasn't practical to have it blown around every day outside. Now, I work inside, and I'm able to keep my hair short like it's naturally intended to be. I hate the feeling of hair on the back of my neck or touching the color on my polo shirts I wear at work. So, I call my hair salon lady and hope that maybe I can get my hair cut, that might cheer me up. Well, I can - but not for three days.  Yaay.

So, since I'm really home for lunch, I decide to get to that. I look at the pile of bills on my desk and tell myself I'll do it later.  I sit down for a nice sammitch and a glass of milk (I get heartburn, don't judge me). So I'm about halfway through my lunch when..... something stinks. Like, really bad. Then, I look ahead into my foyer.

Kitties.

Specifically one kitty, who shall remain nameless (COUGHWASHINGTONCOUGH), apparently didn't feel like using the litterbox. Yep, he just dropped his number two right NEXT to the box, instead of in it.  I have no idea why he does this, but every now and then he'll just decide he's too good for the litter box. Thankfully he doesn't pee on my carpet.  To the paper towels I go. I guess these are the joys of cat ownership?

So that was again, putting another little notch in the sucky category. So I decide, while I'm on my break, why not get something more positive going. I'll get the presents for my sister's birthday and her daughter's birthday ready. I bought them a couple things that need to be framed, so I got them out to see what the dimensions were. Were they clearly labeled on a receipt? OF COURSE NOT. Because some dumb person threw away the receipt, and so now that certain dummy has to measure the items so the dummy can purchase the appropriate frames. Do I have a ruler or something handy to do that? I think you know the answer. I do not.

Then, back to work, which is fine, that's something I can be happy about anyway. Another work day finished. Then, I decide that it's time to buy Husbando's Father's Day gift. He's wanted this certain desktop grinder thing for ages, so I head out to a local establishment to buy one. Strike one. I go to another. Strike two. Let's fast forward. Nobody in town had one. But, the guy at a certain chain hardware store did helpfully tell me that there were three in Warrensburg, but I'd have to go up there to get it. Great.

So, off I go. I don't know what it is about me lately, but highway driving makes me nervous. Half an hour later, I'm in the 'Burg. Swell. To the store! I find the item...but there's no way I can carry this thing. I look for an employee... I can't find anybody. So I go and search for a cart to help me lug this thing out. Do they have any by the front door? No. So I had to find one by the Exit door, and drag it through the little area and bring it over to buy his... thingy. I get up front, and I get out my wallet to use the store credit card that I have so I can track purchases and get bonuses. Is it there?

Is it.

I think you know.

Nope.  Husbando took it last week to buy something for his camping trip and kept it. Okay, not a huge deal, I can just use my debit card. It was just, you know, two hundred dollars out of my bank account that I wasn't counting on. I wrestle the thing out and into the trunk of my car.  And then, I manage to knock my forehead into the back of the trunk. YOWCH!

Crankiness continues.

I head back to Sedalia. DMV time! For some reason, the place is packed. I don't get it! Every time I go there, there's always someone ahead of me. Luckily the lady says it's just a simple error, and all they need is to send a photocopy of my driver's license to the errors department. Finally, something simple.

Now... home time. I finally made it back, and realized that I had forgotten to buy the frames for the other presents. I also forgot to buy Father's Day cards. I had remembered to buy birthday cards, but not Father's Day cards.  Sigh. I tell myself, I'll just do it tomorrow. I can't handle going out again right now. I shower and try to un-crankify myself. I get out, feeling a little better, and reach for the deodorant. I open it, and begin to apply it when it immediately does that thing where the top of the white part snaps itself in half and falls to the floor.

Nope. Nope, I'm done. I'm going to sit on my couch with a glass of wine and bingewatch Dateline. I've taken all I can take from the annoying parts of life today.

So I settle in, with my favorite Nicolas Cage pillow and the perfect pair of pajama pants (we all have that pair, the one you've had for years that might have a stain or a hole in the leg but you can't throw them away because they're PERFECT) and listen to Keith Morrison's dulcet tones for a few minutes. My mind starts to wander and I realize... you know, a lot of bad little things happened to me today, but I've got a good life. I've got the best job ever, my Dad is still awesome, I have a great Husband, my own home, and two great stepdaughters. I get to see my Sister and her family this weekend, and it's not all that bad after all.

And, hey, I've got sweet kitties. Here's one coming up to love on me! I give the floor pooper a few scritches and he's purring up a storm. Yeah, life is pretty good after all. He's rubbing himself on me, telling me he's sorry and he loves me, when he goes for his signature love move... a head butt.

On the very knot I got from the trunk.

Crankily yours,
Behka