Okay, it’s not like anyone is dead, maimed, or maligned, but I need a drink.
Lessee. Today is DeathLlama’s first day teaching with students; this is my third, so waited with the baby for the nanny so DL could leave early for work. She arrived early, so I thought great! I’ll get to school at a reasonable time.
Or so I thought until I tried to leave the complex. There’s a high school and an elementary school on the street the complex exits onto, and it’s their first day back too–so it’s a parking lot, and I have NO CHOICE but to turn on that street. It takes me 7 minutes to go about a block.
While sipping my coffee on the drive, I manage to splash some on the few inches of white (camisol shell) that are exposed in my mostly black and grey outfit. Seriously, couldn’t have been an inch lower or to the left or right…
As I’m about to pull into the parking lot at work, I realize… OH MY GOD I FORGOT THE BREAST PUMP! …and let loose my first string of obscenities of the day. I could have gone without my school keys, my purse, my school work bag, ANYthing but that pump. Otherwise I’d have been in a world of hurt come lunch, and likely feverish by dismissal. Engorgement SUCKS.
Since I have first period prep, I run a few copies, wait for the worst of school traffic to die down, and then book it home for the pump. I spend my entire first period driving home, getting the pump (and putting Spray n Wash on the coffee stain), kissing baby goodbye (again), and driving back to work. I arrive precisely 2 minutes before the end of first period and have zero time to get things ready for class.
Teaching goes well, although boring (had no time to prep an interesting lesson), but the stress took its toll–possible TMI, but it took forever for my milk letdown reflex to kick in when I pumped at brunch. Once it did, I pumped a large amount, but it took the entire break period and I couldn’t even get to the bathroom for a piss.
I had no time to make lunch the night before–baby’s been a teething crankipuss–so I had to get the school lunch. It was undercooked pizza…nothing like a sticky, doughy crust…
Finally, the cherry on top of this perfectly lovely day:
When I arrive home, I remembered I had to park on the street as the nanny parks in the garage (homeowner’s association rules–no street parking; she got a warning Friday). As I pass by our garage, I see it’s open and her car is on the OTHER side of the garage. WHAT? I gasp. Did she drive somewhere? Did she move it? WHAT? In my haste, I put the truck in reverse to get a better look…
And run into the mailbox kiosk, knocking THREE of them off and denting them to crap.
And so begins my second string of obscenities for the day.
Oh, and for the record, that was my husband’s car, not the nanny’s. That was one expensive double-take.
