I am having THE most shittiest (*PUN totally intended, as you will see below) day evah.
I'm so cranky I want to cry. Or scream. Or laugh insanely.
I woke up this morning from a pleasant and cool slumber and went out to make my breakfast. Big D had to leave early for work so I ate my breakfast alone and watched the news, while posting my Photostory Friday below. While I was sitting there on the couch I heard: munch, munch, munch and the hidden, guilty rustle of plastic.
With one devil dog on the loose in the house, those furtive noises always signal trouble. I called Daisy out to me and at the same time, Tucker came over to investigate. Whenever Daisy has food or some item in the house that she should not have, and Tucker comes near it, she attacks. Yes, my 19 lb. terror attacks my 90 lb. all-muscle yellow lab. All hell broke loose: the scared lab ran, tail between his legs, I shrieked at the 19 lb. terror, she growled and acted like she was going to attack me (we've had many, many instances in the past with my little devil dog that I don't feel like going into now. Generally she is a dog who is as sweet as sugar, but she is aggressive over food and toys....suffice it to say, she can be evil sometimes). Anyway, I grabbed Daisy by the scruff of her neck (supporting her little bum of course!) and kept her a safe distance so she would not bite me and put her in her cage. Whenever this happens, inwardly I feel like the worst person in the world, since my dog wants to bite me. Her mama. The hand who feeds her, the face who kisses and loves her. Ugh. This is not normal behavoir. But that's beside the point today; I picked up the chewed-up plastic sandwich bag off the floor and then proceeded to hop into the shower. I had to grab clothes for the day, so dressed in only a towel with another towel turban-like on my head, I proceeded out to the living room to grab my glass of water where I left it. I suddenly heard a pitiful kitty-cat mewling. I've heard that sound before when I accidentally locked Bailey, my cat, in a closet or on the sunporch (don't ask). LikeI mentioned in a previous post, I always leave my bedroom door shut.
I proceeded to the bedroom, filled with dread. I opened the door.
Ms. Pee-body, Bailey, came racing out of our bedroom.
The smell hit me before I stepped into the room.
Oh DEAR GOD, NO!!
Bailey had pissed and shit on my unmade bed. I shrieked for the second time this morning and started to clean it up and raced downstairs to throw the soiled sheets and blankets into the washing machine, cursing at the top of my lungs the whole way. My damn towel kept coming off and my living room blinds were open but did I care that I could be possibly flashing my girly bits to all of my neighbors? Not a freakin' chance. I was beyond caring at that point. It took me a good 20-25 minutes of carefully blotting with paper towels then applying all types of upholstery cleaners and sprays before I felt secure enough in that I had gotten out the stain. (Fingers crossed.)
With a sigh, I turned and reached for my pair of tan pants (my only 1 of like 3 pairs that currently fit me and I REFUSE to buy any more) and for the third time that morning, shrieked at the top of my lungs. My freakin' air conditioner, that had been running all night in our bedroom window, had leaked water ALL OVER MY PANTS. My one out of only like 2 or 3 pairs that FIT and that was CLEAN. I called quickly in to work, explained I would be late, and then ransacked my closet for a pair of pants that I could squish my fat into. Quick blew dry my hair and raced out the door, realizing my throat was totally sore from all the shrieking. Left for work, text messaging Big D about the cat and got his message back that he hated her and wanted to get rid of her. Immediately welled up in tears in the car and explained to him that I couldn't think about getting rid of my fur-ball without being insanely upset. I could tell, even through text, that he was immediately contrite, knowing how difficult decision this would be for me and he told me to make a vet appointment to see if the VET could get to the bottom of this, before any drastic measures are taken.
At work, things started to quiet down and I started to feel mellow. It was a short-lived feeling.
My boss had just left to run to Panera to grab our lunch when she suddenly called, all frantic, and half-shouted out "Cop with a big gun in our parking lot! Put me on with Steve (owner) RIGHT NOW!"
simultaneously my Whoa. Of course I could not locate the owner, so I sucked in a loud breath in surprise whilecoworker, George, was peeking out the front door at a police cruiser ripping through the parking lot and my boss, still on the phone in my ear, shouted, "Tell George to get back inside right now!" Which I did. I patched her call thru to next in command, and then went to stand by the door with George, trying to quietly tell the students outside to get their behinds INDOORS. Stat. Would you believe some of those dumb ass students just continued to puff away on their cigarettes? (and I'm not talking about kids...these are grown ups who should KNOW BETTER!!!)
I suddenly saw the big, jacked-up uniformed cop sitting on the picnic table holding a huge-ass rifle in his hands, staring intently at the street. My adrenaline started pumping instinctively and I started shaking. I was so absorbed with staring that I totally didn't even think to take a pic w/my cell to share with you guys...shame on this blogger! LOL I should have.
Anyway, the cop was sitting right near MY vehicle and it looked like he was looking inside so I almost peed my pants, wondering what the heck he expected to find, then he started peering under all the vehicles, all the while holding this big rifle at the ready. I realized he must have been on the look out for someone.
Anyway, as suddenly as it all started, the drama ended. Turns out there was an armed robbery (with guns) somewhere in Wethersfield (a nearby town) and a car matching the description of the getaway car was parked across the street from us so they were staking it out. Once they found out the owner of the car and knew it wasn't someone from the robbery, the cops packed up their huge-ass rifles and left!
my And now here I sit, about an hour and twenty minutes before I can leave, silently stewing becuz my freakin' boss wants me to "pitch in to be fair to her" and clean our shared bathroom in the office down here. (we have multiple bathrooms throughout the school that are cleaned by professionals but for some reason this one bathroom in our office, is not included).
DUDE, scrubbing toilets is not on my freakin' job description! I'm so irritated that I have no choice and I have to do it.
I'M SO PISSY TODAY AND I JUST WANT TO GO HOME.