Lately, Wednesdays have just, to borrow a phrase the husband seems recently enamored with: ‘sucked out loud.’
Last Wed I came home from work to discover that my just turned 2 year old fridge had turned into an easybake oven. Then, later that evening at sand v-ball my team started strong each of the 3 games, only to (here comes that phrase again) suck out loud at the end and lose ’em all. Wednesday must also be the all-you-can-eat buffet night for the mosquitoes, because by the end of the game, my ankles were an itchy swollen mess. I arrive home to a crabby sullen husband, so I escaped to the tub to wash the sand and stress away.
This Wed I get a call at 5:30 am – my Dad is going to the hospital…for what appears to be his 2nd heart attack in under 6 months. After a long afternoon in the cardiac waiting room, he comes out doing well…so I’ll count my blessings and be thankful…but man does it suck…his birthday is next week…and he is too young for any of this nonsense!
So after a day in the hospital I am looking forward to burning off some steam and kicking some butt at volleyball – but the weather turns ominous. 30 minutes before the game they announce that it is “game on!” and so I pack up the girls and head over to the courts. Just as I pull into the parking lot I get a text saying they decided to cancel afterall.
So I came home, gave the girls their bath, and put ’em to bed. Had an icy cold Blue Moon with a slice of lemon (I know you’re supposed to do an orange, but I like lemon better), put on some very comfy and unsexy pj’s (the pants have snowmen on them, to give you an idea) and here I am bogging my troubles away.
Thanks for listening. I feel better now.
Maybe it was the beer.