The morning from you-know-where

You know what? Actually, I'm just going to come out and say it, because it's my blog and I can swear if I want to. This was the morning from hell. There is no other way of putting it. I am in a serious slump and can't seem to find anything good about my life right now. In my spirit of pessimism and un-Christmas-y-ness, let me just list all the things I have to complain about. Be prepared for me to NOT spread any Christmas cheer with this post, but rather to dash it all away.

-I still can't seem to get my rear in gear and give out the rest of the treats that were NOT in cans, so they are all sitting on the counter and in the fridge getting stale and gross and old, wasting both time and money.

-Our Christmas lights burned brown spots all over our beautiful tree and now I'm afraid to turn them on because it's a big fat fire hazard.

-I have to sing a solo in sacrament meeting on Sunday, and I got 2 days notice, and my accompanist won't call me back to practice, and I'm getting sick again so my voice sounds bad, and it's a Janice Kapp Perry song and I HATE Janice Kapp Perry songs but the ward music leader won't let me sing a hymn like the handbook says you're supposed to do in sacrament meeting because she's dead set and this dumb song because it "goes with the topic." It's not even a stinking Christmas song.

-Leighton screamed the ENTIRE way to Kindermusik this morning, and I couldn't perform my usual human contorionist act and hold the bottle in his mouth while driving because it was pouring rain and I was afraid to drive even with both hands on the wheel.

-When I got to the Kindermusik place and parked, I had to carry both children a long walk through the freezing rain and dropped Leighton's sweatshirt on the ground.

-Kindermusik was awesome - nothing to complain about there. Oh, except when Eva threw a book at my face and gave me a fat lip.

-Walking back to the car with my seemingly 500-pound children in my arms, I stepped in a huge puddle, soaking my shoe, sock, foot, and jeans a couple inches up.

-Upon turning on the car, I saw the gas light was on. When did that happen? No big deal. I would just stop at the gas station a couple blocks away. Pull up to the gas pump, turn off the car, pop the tank, open the diaper bag to get out my wallet...NO WALLET. Search the car frantically. No wallet anywhere. Disctintly remember putting it in the diaper bag before leaving the house. Look again. No wallet.

-Starting to freak out, I checked to see exactly how much gas I had left. 13 miles. Looked on my GPS to see how far to home. 13.6 miles. Started to cry a little, but decided to be calm and drive back to the studio to look for my wallet there.

-Get lost on the way back, wasting precious gas. Left the kids in the car like a law-breaker to run look for the stupid wallet. Not there.

-Got back in the car and really started to cry. 9 miles of gas left. Called Andrew - his phone was turned off. Called several more times, and left a weepy message pleading for help. Prayed for a miracle.

-Andrew called back 1 minute later - miracle. He told me to head for home and go as far as I could and he would leave work to come save me. I got about 5 miles and stopped to wait and calm myself down. He came and saved me.

-Back home, I found my stupid wallet on the living room floor. Thanks to Eva for taking it out of the diaper bag seconds before we walked out the door. So now I have a full tank of gas, 2 sleeping children, and a cold right foot. I don't think I'm ever leaving the house again. I'm going to go eat brownies and sulk.