Today has been one of those days... To put it all into perspective, it's one those days that if I woke up hungover and never remembered it happened, I'd be all the better for it.
Hubby went to a new job this morning, and sometime around noon, he calls home and asks me if I knew where his s/s card is. "Uh, yeah - it's in your wallet." Or at least, that's where he usually keeps it. But no. Not today. Not when he needs it. So that was my early mission this morning - tear the house down top to bottom looking for his s/s card. During all this, mom calls me two or three times. I keep trying to tell her the signal isn't strong enough on my cell because I'm inside but she is going on about the waste management company who won't pick up her trash. I give up the hunt for the s/s card and go outside. It's a blazing hot 102 degrees, but what the hell... I listen to mom rant about the waste management folks giving her the run around about garbage pick up.
The skinny on that: Mom is supposed to have garbage pick up. They won't bring her one of the green cans. So, she went and bought a black one, but they won't pick it up because it's black. Sooo, mom has to take the trash out of the can, put it in her truck and drive it across parish lines (from her parish into mine - and for those that ask what the hell is a parish - it's the equivalent to a county in other states). Apparently it's illegal to take the trash across parish lines even though it's the closest garbage dump to them. I'm really wondering for who this could really be illegal/a problem for. More than likely the bastards who won't pick up her trash, due to funding or some fine they'll face if it's ever found out people are having to haul their trash out of the parish, but then I'm digressing...and in a bitchy mood to start.
Mom calls and complains about the whole situation to the WM people, and the lady tells mom they don't have any of the green cans to give out - that there is a waiting list for trash cans. OK. So today one of the distributors from WM calls mom and says she needs to come and pick up one of the cans - they have it for her. Since she lives at the edge of the parish mom asks - will you be there when I get there? It's a 35 minutes drive. He assures her he will be there. Lo and behold, the effer is gone when she arrives, and she goes around back of the facility knocking on the back door. What does she see when she's back there? A GARAGE full of the green trash cans. Remember? They don't have any? They're all on backorder. What a load of -
So anyway, no one shows up and mom goes back home with no trash can and thus the cycle begins again. She called in a complaint which is really all she can do, but then after the fact she calls my house to rant me into it.
Meanwhile I'm getting roasted in the noon day sun to listen to this, Hubster is texting me to find out what I've found about the s/s card, and Mini is standing at the door yowling at me because the neighbor's puppy is jumping on the screen door trying to get in the house. ARRRRGG! I finally go in the house, and tell mom that I can't hold the signal - which is true. We hang up, then I turn around and threaten beasts and children to stay back from me before I end up with a set of fresh, if not very interesting set of roast rumps for the supper table tonight.
I finish tearing the house to smithereens and find hubby's s/s card. Where was it? Why, at some point in time hubby put it in my purse!!! *blood pressure check* I call him back at work to let him know I have it, which I have to go back outside to do, and by this time Mini is storming the gates (front door) "Mimi, I'm HUNGRY!"
Well, it's is 1:30 after all, so I go in and make this thing of shells and cheese (macaroni, yo) and grilled chicken breast and voila! Eat, children! Oldest comes out of his room for the first time all day and he's complaining because of some such thing with his friend. "I love you, honey, but please come back when you have real problems, yes?"
After lunch, I thought things would settle down and I could actually sit down at the comp a while and do something other than go to a page and have to walk away from it, but by then the mail lady comes up and honks the horn. *sigh* OK. Well, this actually turned out pretty good, because I had three packages for me. One of them was from Babyland. Woohoo! An early birthday present!
Mini kept dragging me to the toybox on throughout the day, although I was trying to put back some of the mess I'd dragged out looking for hubby's s/s card. I ended up finding this box of 64 crayons with the sharpener in it. Once I did, Mini wanted to color. But by this, he means he wants me to color. I'd dragged out all these coloring books from the supply shelf and so we went through them, and I colored with him for about an hour. By that time I was ready to do something for myself for a while. Of course Mini doesn't understand this and has the tendency to make me feel like a dirty dog for wanting a bit of free time. So, I took the new cabbage to his room to dress and photograph, and he played with trains at my feet.
By around three, I went back to cleaning up all the mess - despite Mini's protestations - and started pulling out things for supper. I decided spaghetti would work because it's fast and I already had ground beef thawed to cook with. I had no idea hubby was getting off work at 4:30 - it seems the job has changed hours on us. They begin work an hour earlier, so they can get off work an hour earlier. Makes sense to me. But I didn't know that, and I just had the spaghetti drained when hubby pulls up in the Jeep.
He's tired; he's grungy. He goes off to take a bath, Mini chasing after him. And I don't know if it's some psychic connection, if it's that whole electricity - aquarian thing but the minute that man walks in the door I SWEAR the phone starts to ring. Phone call after phone call until I'm ready to take his cell and flush it down the toilet. Remember when they used to joke about women chatting on the phone too much? Yeah. Ok. I take Mini out to the sandbox and still hubby is on the phone. I give him my deadly glare and he finally tells his buddy, "Hey, man, I gotta go."
"Yep, you do, before you end up sleeping at his house tonight."
We play soccer with Mini. Or rather, keep away, with one of those cheap marble- colored playballs. Know what I'm talking about? He throws sand, the neighbor's dog comes over, and things start to look up. Maybe the day will end on a high note after all...
We take Mini in, and I haul him to the tub to give him a bath. I hate sand on the floor, so while the water's running, I sweep up what got tracked in from the sandbox. Everything goes well. I'm hanging out with Mini, I'm washing his hair. He douses me with the cup until I have to wash mine.
Around 8:40, this guy around Oldest's age shows up at the door. He knocks, and hubby answers. This kid is hammered. I'm talking totally, staggering, puffy eyed, drooling shitfaced. He says, "I know your son from school. Can he give me a ride down to the bar?"
There is a bar less than a mile from here. Well, I say bar. It's one of those Louisiana back woods, down a country road by the cow pasture kind of redneck/biker places. For real. My hubby looks at this kid, who cannot possibly be old enough to drink. "My son isn't taking you anywhere."
The kid stumbles (literally!) off the property cursing and whatnot. And so hubby calls the cops. This is the same kid that ran over our mailbox and abandoned his truck in our driveway about a year or so ago. He's a known menace that creeps through peoples yards at night, was arrested for shooting one of his neighbor's dogs, and has a criminal history a mile long. And guess what? No effing cop shows up.
Sooo... Hubby calls back and this time the cop tells him someone has been sent out. Finally the cop comes and talks to hubby. While I'm putting Mini to bed, hubby has to call up to the station again - the other cop never came back! - and this time, the cop he talked to before suddenly can't be bothered. Well, what can you expect? He couldn't be bothered to do his job the first go-around either. To think, in another 4 months these assholes are going to be calling us for a police donation. Well, they can kiss it!
Hubby was so bothered by this last phone call with the police station he couldn't go to bed afterward, and I tell ya, I could've had a few things to say to an officer on the phone, but then I might be blogging from jail. :P
Instead, I sat down and did a bit of meditation, trying to center myself. However, that's when Mini wakes up crying from a tummy ache. *sigh* I've all but given up on a decent day today. Maybe tomorrow...hopefully?
At any rate, I've finally put Mini to bed (again!), hubby is snoozing, and Oldest is gaming in his room. I'm crossing my fingers the bad tide has passed. Much more of this and I'm going to have to break out the black candles.