It has been a long time since I sat in the driveway thinking “How in the fuck did I manage to do that?” Perhaps you remember the morning I put my car in the ditch. Maybe you even remember that I couldn’t figure what to do while I waited for AAA because it was so cold outside. My patient husband suggested I go INSIDE the house.
So, today while I sat in the driveway wondering how in the hell I managed to lock myself and two kids out of the house I kept thinking fuck it, we can just go inside and wait. Yeah. No, I can’t.
We cleaned out the car. We organized my purse, suspiciously devoid of keys. We took funny pictures. And we waited for Dad.
Eventually the funny picture taking began to wear thin and I started to sweat. I do not care so much for sweating unless that is an activity I have planned on. I love to get sweaty. Exercise and get sweaty. Go to the beach and get sweaty. Get it on and get sweaty. Sweaty is an integral part of many activities I love. Sit in the driveway and get sweaty. It wasn’t doing it for me.
I started to get annoyed. “Emily, today might be a shitty day. I might swear a lot today. A lot, like more than normal. I need you to just hang tough.”
Eventually we got our keys. We headed to the museum for the afternoon. We ate ice cream BEFORE our lunch. I was trying to rally. Really, I was. But I had showered. I had on cute shoes. And now I was fucking sweaty.
We ran our errands. We checked the teacher lists at school. Em got a haircut and the teacher she wanted. Things were looking up. But it’s not easy for me to turn a day around.
So when the nice woman with the baby said “How old is she?” I could feel myself start to sigh inside. I can be aloof. I know it is hard to imagine but I can. “Just shy of seven months.” I thought I was making the “Don’t talk to me, I was fucking sweating today, god dammit!!” face. But I must have misfired.
“He is, too. And she is six months and she is eight.” I have no idea how it happened. Have you ever walked in to a bar with a royal hangover in your flannel pants just to get your credit card that you left there the night before and forty minutes later you are smashed and getting hit on and it is the middle of the day? No? That was just me?
All of a sudden I was sitting on the floor with one, two, three other mothers and FOUR babies and it was … fun. And one of them took my phone number!! And we were Facebook friends within twenty minutes of her leaving. These people had ruined my bad mood.
And I don’t think I ever said anything about “my job.” The job I don’t really have anymore. I just said “Yeah, I will have tons of time when Em starts school next week.” And I didn’t apologize. Or explain that I am terribly busy Mod Podging my shoes (I am still so in love with my freakin’ shoes!!!!) and making homemade granola bars and becoming Queen of the PTA. I just said “Yeah, here’s my number.”
And it felt good.
So, today kind of Sucked. But then it turned Awesome.