It doesn’t pay to get out of bed. Only I had one of those weeks. You ever have one of those weeks where nothing goes right? Where everything you touch turns to $h!t? Where it seems the very forces of the universe have you in their sights, and they don’t like what they see?
That was my week last week. I felt as if a black cloud was hanging over my head like the cartoon character Joe Btfsplk in Al Capp’s Li’l Abner comic strip.
One particular day, Thursday to be exact, my day-job had succeeded in beating me into submission, and at the end of that day I dragged my poor, battered body and my mushy, wasted brain out to the parking garage to finally go home. And wouldn’t you know it — my four-month old car wouldn’t start. I wanted to lay my head on the steering wheel and cry, but frankly, without my AC, it was just too damn hot to wallow in self-pity. After several phone calls, the obligatory hold-time waiting for my roadside assistance program’s “next available customer service representative,” and the wait-time for the tow truck, I finally reached the solitude of my home three hours later (without my car).
The next day, I figured I’d already walked through the fire that was my craptastic day the day before, Friday had to be better, right? Wrong. Thinking the previous day’s beating wasn’t enough, my day-job took up where it had left off and continued to hammer me. In the midst of my nightmare, my husband called to say our non-profit website was down — what should we do? Um, cry? Because that’s what I felt like doing. At that point, I’d raised the white flag. I surrendered. The Force had won.
By Friday night, all I was capable of when I got home was staring at the TV. I’m not even sure it was on. I lost millions of brain cells I’ll never get back. I can’t remember going to bed. I just know I woke up there the next morning. Thank God, that week ended. And so far (let me knock on wood), this week has been better. But there’s still two days left.
How about you? You have any days or weeks like that lately?