So after an okay day at work, which was the end of an altogether horrific week on a personal level, and looking forward to a couple of days off, I left work ready for the weekend. Okay, it was already Saturday, but since I would be off the following two days, it was just like Friday afternoon.
Before I could head for home, I had to pick up Kayn, our last foster cat, who was at an adoption event at the Petsmart. I picked him up, packed him up, loaded him into the car and headed home in a near frenzy, ready to get home, take off my bra, and just let the world worry about itself for a few hours while I had some time away from it.
I have had my car for five weeks. Maybe six. I’m still getting used to it. That said, I totally changed lanes and cut someone off, even though I looked over my shoulder, because my new car has a pretty sizable blind spot.
So, I just drove really fast to be sure to stay out of his way after that. My bad. A few miles closer to home, driving down the center of three lanes, I was visited by Karma in the form of some bimbo in an SUV who thought it would be a good idea to pull out of the McDonald’s into, you guessed it, the center lane. Lay on the horn, stand on the brake, hope that the cat doesn’t break his nose on the door of his carrier. Where’d she get her license, out of a Cracker Jack box?
I’m finally home, where I can relax and cuddle with my loving husband, who dead-bolted the back door for some reason. “Did I lock that? I’m sorry!”
Deep breath. Don’t kill him, he’s on your side. What? Why would I have a grocery bag? Oh yeah, I was supposed to bring home some things for dinner. Well, crap. Back in the car, to the grocery store, hubby tagging along. Why can’t I park? Why are there so many cars in the parking lot? Why is this so stressful? Shop, shop, shop, should we make that daiquiri mix? Okay, we’ll get ice and stop at the liquor store. Back in the parking lot. These people are idiots. Why am I still wearing a bra? I hate driving today. Liquor store? No? Well, fine then. Home. Bathtub.
Some people drink when they get stressed. Some people might settle for some anti-anxiety medication (you can bet I have), some people (crazy people) might go running to relieve stress. Some options are healthier than others. I don’t want to settle for chemical relief. That sounds like a short road to addiction. And I never run with scissors (those last two words were unnecessary). So I took a bath. My husband was a little confused why I was running a bath less than thirty seconds after walking through the door. I told him to come in or stay out, but shut the door, I’m taking a bath. Then I took a bath. Half an hour later, he came to check on me. I think he missed me. I lamented about how the tub drain doesn’t hold water, and the tub had lost half of my bath. He said I should turn the water back on, so I did. I really expected him to suggest I finish my bath, and I love him for allowing me to indulge.
He went to the liquor store. The daiquiri mix has to sit in the freezer for four hours. We’ll have it tomorrow. I put some potatoes in the oven and chilled in the bedroom (because that’s where my phone charger is and I wanted to play on my phone, which was close to dying). My husband loves me. He made a daiquiri mix that had been chewed on by cats. The bag is a little leaky, but it might be okay. Maybe he should have kept some of that to himself, because I don’t want anything that has been chewed on by cats. I love that man.
Deep breath. He’s on my side . . . . and he’s cute.
Dinner was excellent. The company was fabulous. And being bra-less is phenomenal. I’m glad this day ended this way. All in all, today was a win. Go Team Tracy.