Day One and the fun begins



So, of course each day comes with blessings, surprises and sometimes Karma's wrath.

I capitalized the K in Karma because for it to be as vengeful as it is at times, it has to be one bitter,

(not quite so lady-like) lady.

It starts of normally enough. The regular routine...

That freaking damn alarm, oh how I loathe thee. It interrupts my wonderful, peaceful, way too short sleep. I love those little dreaming sessions I am able to take (usually around 5 to 6 hours a night). Eight hours of sleep a night??? Whoever heard such a thing. This is reality, babe that does not happen in reality.

Anyway, I know I must have swiped that snooze button on my trusty, cherished smart phone (the Galaxy Note 3, I love that phone) at least twice before. What happens during the first alarm or the second alarm I have set on my phone, I have no idea. I really couldn't tell you. I don't even know if it helps me wake up. I would turn them off, but... what if... what if those two alarms help me wake up on the third alarm. If they get turned off... Will I think that the alarm I usually wake up on... will I think that is the first one and swipe to snooze or turn off???..... My subconscious thinking that I have two more alarms waiting?

So, can you see my delima?

Back to this morning... but please note that what you just read... IT HAPPENS EVERY MORNING!!!

And, I think I am a creature of habit. If things don't start off the same every morning, something along the process in my day will be screwed up. It never fails.

Well, I get out of bed (this morning it is more like tripped out of bed)... lost my balance and put my fist through one of the canvasses that I was going to paint for the craft fair in Houma, LA that which my sister and I will be selling our crafts. (Her selling her wreaths, and I selling my paintings).

I think to myself, "Well, isn't this just great? It's not like I needed this." That was said with EXTREME sarcasm, of course. I am a "starving" artist. I do have a full time job, however... I do have three children with mucho expenso, comprendo? (ha ha ha... I just made that up)

... the words, not the scenario.

And, art supplies are not cheap. However, I do purchase the cheaper of these supplies, knowing all too well that my work would take on such a much better quality if I were able to not be quite so concerned about the expenses.

With all that going through my mind in such a short minute, I gathered myself and continued my morning.

Like I said before, same routine..

Bathroom

Wake up Courtney... "Hey Co.. wake up sweetheart."

She will not say anything this time, just turn her head, sometimes she will turn her entire body over.

This morning, it was just the head.

Back to bedroom, get dressed

Wake up Courtney again, "Come on Co.. you've gotta get up."

(and here comes her routine response)... said in the sleepiest voice you can imagine

"I know mom, but I am soooo tired."

Wake up Grant... "Hey, Grant it is 6am. You don't want to be late, right?"

Start the waking up process on my youngest, Hunter...

(Oh, crap... I just realized I did not call him this morning to make sure he was up and dressed and ready to go wait for the bus. Which means that there is a 99.99998% chance he is snoring his cute little head of on the love seat in the living room right now.)

Give me a minute - let me text him.

.......

I waited and waited, but no reply to my, "Please tell me you made the bus and are at school" text.

I want to call him, but what if he is in class and he forgot to turn the ringer off?

I did that to my oldest once, it was during a test I think, only to get a call from the Vice Principal informing me that Grant's phone has been confiscated because he recieved a call during class.

Geesh.... Ugh. Well, I definitely couldn't fuss him for that one, right?

------

Checked again, still no reply. What to do? What to do?

So, while I am stressing over this, let me continue my morning summary.

Let's see... where was I?

Oh, yeah... I started the waking process on Hunter (sounds familiar?).

"Hunter... Hunter... Hey Hunter!!!"

A not quite as sleepy as Courtney reponse... "What mom?"

"You need to start waking up, do not miss that bus you hear me?"

"Alright Mom."

Then I check his alarm settings on his phone...

I usually make sure there are 3 (of course - just like mom) alarms set for him to fully wake up.

Awwww Dang!!!! Son of a gun!!

That is where I went wrong. This morning I did not check his alarms.

Well, like I said I USUALLY make sure he has 3 set... 6:50, 7:00 and 7:10. His bus passes for 7:30 when she decides to be on time - which is nearly NEVER! 

80% of the time the bus gets the kids to school late.

 - -

Moving along...

(and by the way... still no reply - I should call, right? No... I will wait a little while longer)

After I have done my normal routine of wakey wakies, I am usually out of the door. This morning, however (another break in the routine) I have to write checks for lunch (one for Hunter, Grant and Courtney) and checks for Grant's school fees so that he can purchase two prom tickets (yet another check written).  I am glad he is going to prom, not 100% of how the asking to prom thing went down.

(But that is another story for another day - probably Saturday, the prom day)

After the checks were written, I picked up my small back pack/hand bag combination thing and my large backpack. It is actually a laptop bag with compartments for everything under the sun. And, I have everything under the sun inside of it... BUT a laptop. I rarely use anything for the purpose it is supposed to be used for. For instance, my last bag was a beach tote. That thing fell apart really quick. But, as I usually see it (but I really should get out of this habit) - the larger the bag, the more crap I could put in it.

I walk out of the door and proceeded to my car. I throw my large bag in the back seat and my small bag in the front seat with me. I take off, to Dad's house for my usual, routine morning cup of coffee with him. I pull down the street and I see... Ooooooh, the prettiest sunset, and of course I have to stop driving - in the middle of the street, pull out my trusty phone and take a pic.

((I wanted to insert the picture I took here, but of course, my phone is not in a good connection situation here, at work... sooooooo, while waiting for the email to go through, I will continue))

I walk in Dad's house, pour myself a cup of coffee... spill a good bit of it, but that's okay because it has become part of my new routine since they switched to this "special" coffee maker. I play it off, like I usually do, but I am pretty sure Dad seen it even though he is pretending not to.

I carry my cup to the table and spill just a bit more - which, as an FYI.. has also become part of my routine. This one, I cannot play off because I always take the chair at the table right in front of dear old Dad.

And, I don't mean "old" as in "OLD" - I totally meant that as an endearing term.

Drink the coffee, chat about: the weather, LSU baseball, New Orleans Saints, any current events, and the kids. Oh, yeah... can't forget, we also talk about work adventures and mishaps.

I pick on Lauren a bit and Abel if he is up. Timmy, I don't get a chance to pick on in the morning because he is rarely up that early. Realize this.. I have to do this. I have to pick on them, make them smile and laugh and start their day off in a good way. Otherwise, they think I am mad. How weird is that? If I am not being sarcastic, people think I am mad???

I finish the cup of coffee (it's around 6:25am, as usual), and I kiss the folks goodbye (sometimes mom is up that early, especially if she has an early doctor appointment), wish them a good day, tell them I love them and head on out the door. Get in the car, drive to work. Nothing ever happens on that short 5 minute drive to go 7 miles from Des Allemands to Paradis, to the office.

Oh, take that back... I do have a typical "routine" thing I do on that drive. I either call Courtney or Grant to make sure they are up, dressing and just about ready to leave. You see, neither of them can afford to be late or miss school.  This morning, I call Courtney (called Grant yesterday morning, her turn... lol)...

Ring, ring, ring... and I hear a just as sleepy as this mornings' drawn out, "Hello???"

"Hey Co, it's mom, I was just calling to see if y'all were up, getting dressed, ready to go.. So, you up?"

(I asked that question knowing good and well what the answer was just by her salutation)

"uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh.... what?" she says.

"Oh, so NO, you are not up, right" I say, sarcastically of course..

I wouldn't want her to think I am mad, right?

"No, because Mom, I am so tired."

Then we go in to the conversation that she is a growing teenage girl who is also borderline anemic and that it is perfectly normal for a 16 year old to have a hard time waking up in the morning. I remember dad having to pour freaking freezing water on my face in the morning because room temperature water just didn't have the power to wake me up. Sometimes, I would sleep for 13 hours on the weekends - so glad my awesome parents just let me catch up on that sleep.

"Courtney, you better get up, get Grant up and get Hunter up again."

"Ok"

"Do not be late for school you hear?"

"Ok"

"Alright get up and get dress, I have to go"

"Ok mom"

We exchanged "I love you's" and I pulled into the parking lot at work.

I see that stupid sign

"Back in parking only"

Look, I know it is safest that way in a parking garage or a large parking lot, but in this parking lot, really?

We have 0 rows of parking here. It is just perimeter parking, all along the gravel. Is it really necessary to back in? I say the same thing in my head every morning because you never know, some fairy might come and change the rules a bit... but nothing ever changes.

I pull up past the parking spot I park in so that I can back in. I have a certain way of backing in. I cannot use just the mirrors like Mark does. I have no Earthly idea how he does that. I have to twist my body, turn my head and look out of the rear window of my Toyota Highlander Hybrid

(I love that car ...and no, this is not a paid advertisment).

So, I do my usual, first step, place my left foot firmly somewhere on the floor between the brake pedal and the emergency brake. Well, this morning for some stupid reason (ahem.. queue karma),

---did I spell that right? queue - it looks odd---

anyway, I attempt to firmly place my foot when it slips and the top of my foot karate chops the bottom of the emergency brake. Without a doubt, of course, the padding was "mysteriously" missing and I think I puncture a vein. Not really, but it did feel like I broke something other than my pride. I know I must have looked stupid because when my left foot slipped, my right foot tried to "catch my fall" and reacted by pressing on the gas. I peeled out a little before I caught myself and was able to back in correctly and park.

I just sat there in my car for a minute... on the verge of tears because that really hurt.

Oh, look... what I just recieved on my email:

Maaaaan.... not sure why, but it isn't uploading.

Wait, I know why... because I tripped this morning and ruined my routine and karma is there to make sure things continue that way.

So, back to this morning.

I walk up to the door (which we have to keep locked for security reasons due to the fact that this is an oil and gas field office - but I am finding it hard to understand what they think some terrorist could accomplish here... perhaps pirate our ice machine? -because we have some really good ice.. Sonic type ice, the little bitty, soft ice cubes that just crumble so softly when you bite into it.)

Do you see how my mind works? I have adult ADD - isn't it obvious?

On task Stephanie!!! Stay on task!!

(I can say that 1,000 times, it won't work)

you see... there I go again.

Back to this morning, yet once again...

I walked up to the eternally locked door (eternally, except on special occassions, like the Fridays that I have to work... what they don't know won't hurt them, right).

"Where is my key... what did I do with it... Come on, really, Stephanie?"

Nope, not on my personal key ring...

Nope not in my small bag,

Nope, not in my large bag,

Nope, not in my pants pockets...

Ugh!!!

I frantically search for my key because knocking on the door was no where near the thoughts in my head. I think all the other voices in my head were talking to loud, letting me know how much of an idiot I was for not being able to find my key.

Right when I am ready to give up and go back to the car to look, I do the "I give up" motion with my arms. Right as I bring my hands up (in surrender) my hand hits the bottom of my plastic badge holder on my lanyard. It also hits something else, hard, cold... 

Oh, wait... lo and behold, it's a key.

Yep, THE key.

So, stupid me, instead of removing the key from the lanyard or even taking the lanyard off from around my neck.. I bend down so that I can reach the lock with the key still on the lanyard that is still around my neck.

Guess what?

Yes, the key gets stuck...

I cannot pull it out, I yank and yank and nothing. 

You know me, I still do not take the lanyard off because why would I do such a thing? You think that would make it easier? Pshaw... Whatever. It's easier to just yank on the key while I am leaning back pulling the lanyard while it remains around my neck. Of course it will come out this way... or nah.

(stole that slang phrase from Grant because I find it is an appropriate usage for this instance) 

That is when the door opens. Someone heard all the commotion I was doing with the door... or rather seen it. The entire door was rattling. The door opens and I sit there still leaning back a little, key still in the door, still on the lanyard that is still around my neck. Deer in the headlights look on my face.

Wouldn't you know, at that instant, the key every so easily slips out of the key hole.

I stand up, collect myself, adjust my bags on my shoulder so that they are hanging on my right shoulder with one strap each, and walk in.

Or so I thought I was just going to walk in...

 when I get violently yanked backward.

"Woah!.. What the.....????"

It seems that the other strap on my bulging at the seams, large bag on my shoulder has wrapped it self (do not ask me how.. I have no idea) around the door knob on the inside of the door. The door is closed and the strap (padded strap) has been lodged in between the door frame and the door knob and it is stuck. I yank and yank, pulling hard until it comes free. I turn around, readjust the bags and see three of the guys standing there by the coffee pot, just laughing at me.

One says, "Haha... One of those days, huh?"

I just give him the mommy stare...

The one out of the corner of my eyes that I give the kids when they are attempting to do something they shouldn't be doing...

"Oh, you just don't know..."

It has only just begun.

I tried again...

Success...

Maybe there is a silver lining to this day after all...