The Terrible, Very Bad, No Good day...

I rolled out of bed with just enough time to get myself to work this morning.  Upon my exiting the shower, the husband reports that the boy left the window down in the car again. How one does that, when they are using the wipers because it's raining, I will never know. He also reports there is glass in the backseat.

So somewhere between throwing in the laundry and throwing my hair in a sloppy ponytail, I present myself in Youngest's room. He's awake, and comes upstairs shortly thereafter to move the car, because I'm not getting my butt wet before work, and clean the glass up. He puts on his clothes, his shoes.  Something smears under his foot on the dog's eating rug and he looks down dismissively. Thinking it's a dog cookie she's saving for later, I grab the vacuum and suck it up as he goes outside, moves the car, and begins to get the shop vac out to clean. The cookies didn't clean up as well as it usually does, which I found odd, but had no time to investigate. I sat in the kitchen putting on my shoes when I see something else on the floor.  I look outside.  More stuff.  In the driveway, more stuff.

Do you have dog crap on your shoe?
*looks at sneaker bottom* Yeah, I did.  But not anymore...
No, no you don't because it's all over the house.

I grab the hose and spray the driveway and slate down. I clean the kitchen floor.  I look at the dog, now sadly looking at me like, why is there random dog poop on my eating rug?, I apologize and figure I'll clean it up later.

I head to work for a horrendous day.  It's hot and humid.  I'm already done before the day even starts. My anxiety is so high I'm having chest pains.  I should probably go home, but don't. Two hundred and 92 packages, my biggest day ever.  I got stuck in two driveways, one of which 3 people had to push me out of. I got stuck behind the ice cream truck on a one way street and have no where to go while a line of kids slowly decide between rocket pops or SpongeBob with the bubblegum eyes. I miss a package and have to drive 10 miles back to get it delivered. I forget to turn my hazards on for the last part of the delivery because I had shut them off to deviate while delivering the package. When I get back into the office my boss asks me a vague did anything happen on the road today?  

Um, yeah... the day sucked... where shall I start?  I got stuck in two driveways.  
Well, Apparently the guy at 73 said you took out his rock wall.

So I proceed to tell him the whole story.  I got stuck in a situation I shouldn't have been in.  There was a rock on the ground that I popped back into the wall, that the bumper *may* have knocked out (it's a loose stacked flat rock wall) I checked the back of the truck to make sure I had not run into their mulch or shrubs, and I left. Could have been me, could have been any one of the number of construction guys they have working on their garage.  Honestly, I'm surprised they even called, they are usually very nice. Boss says "Okay, I'll see what I can smooth over."

I leave for the day and arrive with the dog at the door begging to go out.  It suddenly occurs to me that no one walked her all day. No worries, I think, and we go for a quick walk.  We get home and I prepare myself to scrub the dried poop from the carpet. Except it's not dry.  It's a giant new mess of diarrhea and grossness. Poor girl, no wonder she made a beeline for the door when I got home. So I trash the rug and make a mental note to replace it this weekend.

Then the cleaning begins.  Youngest was given a deadline, which was today, to get everything out of his room that shouldn't be there.  He knew I'd be cleaning. It was disgusting. But I will say that he did, for the most part, everything he was supposed to, and I checked everywhere. I was respectful of his things, only throwing out the actual trash (boxes, candy wrappers, school work from his junior year of high school) I found a book that needs to go back to the school.  I hung his wrestling awards. Made his bed.  Washed his blankets. It looks like a room he should want yo be in, not the crack head semblance of what it was, and it smells clean for the first time in years.

The husband came home and tells me the other side to my work story.  He works with the postmaster the latter half of the day and got wind of the wall story. Having no idea it was me, he got the run down, the postmaster says the video shows it was one rock, that was replaced, etc. No big deal.  Except now the guy is refusing to talk to the postmaster, he's filing charges with the police.

Awesome.

Seventeen years with nothing on my record. Not too worry though, I'll never set foot on their property again.  They can pick up everything at the post office from now on and I get to find out where that all goes tomorrow or Tuesday, we shall see.  Pretty sure this guy's not getting a whole new wall out of the deal though, particularly if he's using the video as evidence. It was one rock. Nothing I can do about it now.

Then as I'm cooking dinner, rather reheating a bowl of soup because that's all I have in me to make, when the small, completely unbreakable, Correlle plate I use to cover it hits the floor and shatters, just as the phone rings. 

It's the therapist calling me back.

Can't imagine why I'd need therapy, but I'm seeing her at 2 on Monday.