dailydiatribes

I had to go back to work today.  Even as Tim is winging home from his trip to Las Vegas, sipping a martini and watching the in-flight movie, I was slaving away at the vet clinic.  Because Tim is not here, I had to get up at 5:30, exercise and shower, wake the kids up, get them moving and dressed, all by myself.  By 7:15, the garbage was out, the dishes were done, the house was picked up and I was on my way to work.  My life is HELL!!!

I got to the office in record time and discovered one of the employees had not shown up.  Beautiful.  It was ok, because for about five minutes, we weren't very busy.  Then the phone started ringing.  I was busy all morning, which was good because it made the time pass faster.

My last feat at the office involved holding the tiniest of Yorkshire Terrier puppies while the doctor examined a lump.  The puppy had come in for diarrhea but when the owner came in to pick up, she requested the lump be examined as well.  It's extremely difficult to hold a puppy that weighs less than 2 pounds because it is so fragile.  I managed to hold it still while the vet aspirated the lump.  I noticed a stench as she pulled the needle out, and I attributed it to the puppy having bad gas.

I walked out and returned it to the owner and as I handed it over, the lady gasped and said "oh, I'm so sorry, look at your shirt!"  Yes, I was besmirched and besmeared with fecal matter.  Apparently, the tiny precious puppy could not contain herself when probed with the needle, so she evacuated her bowels right there on my favorite shirt.  I had a large brown stain at the bosom, and both sleeves were coated as well. 

I laughed and assured her it was fine, secretly wondering how much I could inflate her bill to cover my cleaning costs.  I did use it as an excuse to go home right then.  Can't work if you're covered with crap, right? 

I ran home, did some housework, and the children came home.  Then I rushed Josh off to his piano lesson and then we rushed home to gobble a sandwich so we could go to open house at the high school.  Because my baby is going to high school.

I can hardly believe it, but there we were, walking through the doors of the great big high school, me nervously keeping my eyes peeled for crazed gunmen or dealers peddling drugs in the corners.  It's a brand new school, very nice, and we filed into the auditorium for the presentation.  Josh insisted on sitting in the back row, right in the middle.  The place was packed, and as the academic advisor began speaking, it was standing room only.

Fifteen minutes into her talk, my cell phone rang.  It was home, so of course I answered it, since the girls were alone.

"Hello," I said anxiously.

No answer.

"Hello...Abby?" I said a bit louder.

No answer.

"Abby are you there?"  No answer and people were starting to glare at me.  So I hung up the phone.

It rang again almost immediately.  I answered it again, but still couldn't hear her.  Apparently there is limited reception in the middle of the auditorium.  I hung up, but now I was worried.  Last week, when I left them home alone, the tornado sirens went off, it started hailing, and Nancy had to drive up the street in the storm and rescue them.  Luckily, she chose not to call DHR, in case they decided to make her keep my children.  So I figured if the girls were calling, there was probably something wrong.

I got up, and began fighting my way down the row.  I stepped on the feet of the lady next to me, apologizing profusely as I went.  My butt bumped the people in front of me and I kept saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry....sorry....sorry....excuse me....family emergency...."  People were shushing me and craning their heads, trying to see around me as I crushed their feet and bumped heads with my butt. 

Finally, I made it to the end of the row and then I had to fight through the people crowded by the door.  I dialed home as I was swimming upstream, and when Abby answered, I snarled oh so quietly "someone better be bleeding!!"

"Fine, never mind," she said and HUNG UP!!!!!

By now, I was enveloped in a murderous rage.  I have seen enough CSI and Law and Order episodes to know exactly how to eliminate an 11 year old, dispose of the body and make it look like an accident.  I called her back and I said "Is there a problem?"

"No," she said.  "I told you to forget it!!" 

"Abby," I said very nicely, "you called me and I was in the middle of a meeting.  I am now calling you back and I want to know WHAT IS THE PROBLEM!!!!!!"  I was actually hyperventilating at this point.

"Fine.  We just wanted to know if we could have dessert."

My eyes rolled back in my head and I could feel the demons of rage trying to overtake me.  She is sooooo lucky I didn't have the keys because I would have been in the car in an instant, heading home to make sure she never called me again!!! 

"Yes, Abby," I said, admitting defeat.  "You can have dessert."

"Thanks," she chirped.  Then:  "What are you guys doing?"

I hung up; what else could I do?  I went back into the auditorium and stood against the wall for the next 45 minutes, because I had no desire to repeat the foot stepping performance to get back to my seat. 

By the time we got home at 8:00, I had been out of my pajamas for over 15 hours and I was fading fast.  I told everyone good night and went to bed!!  Thank goodness I don't have to work tomorrow!  Because today was really crappy, in every sense of the word!!