It didn’t start off terrible OR horrible. Thursday evening was actually quite nice. My roomie and I decided to enjoy the Perseid meteor shower from a blanket in the middle of the soccer fields across the street from our house. It was nice and dark (so the stars were clear), and the weather was wonderful – 75 and breezy. Also, since it was a relatively new moon, there was little light interference. We saw a pretty good handful of shooting stars (much better than airplanes…which did keep tricking us…). I even made us cute star shaped snacks and lemonade for us to enjoy during the show.
Then, about a second after midnight, the ickyness of the weekend set in. I should have seen this as a sign of unpleasant things to come, but no. We’re lying there, enjoying the sparkly show, minding our own business, when the automatic sprinkler system in the soccer complex kicked on. I grabbed my phone and puppy seconds before they were soaked by the evil sprinklers. We then had to gather up the blanket, cups, and picnic basket and make a run for it before we, too, were doused. We made it back to the house relatively dry and decided to call it a night.
The next morning, as I was out running errands, a guy in a mini-van managed to back into the front of my Jeep. Now, normally, I wouldn’t have been super upset. I mean, the damage wasn’t even all that bad, see?
The problem was, I had JUST had that bumper replaced, I kid you not, a month earlier. The hoops I’d had to jump through to get it fixed the first time might as well have been flaming AND spiked, so I was NOT looking forward to fixing it again. It was like re-living the nightmare.
So, I tried to brush it off and went to my doctor’s appointment (oh, I didn’t mention I was sick that day? Well, by the way, I felt icky. So that made everything better). Anyway, I made it to my appointment, got my prescription, and drove to Rogers
That evening I went out with some of the guys from the program, and that was a nice little break. It was so nice, in fact, that I actually thought the weekend might be redeemable.
The next day, though, life got worse. I got up, planning to do several loads of laundry and ironing (which I knew would take most of the day). Halfway through my first load, the washer breaks and starts leaking water all over the kitchen floor. So, not only are half of my clothes soaking wet, the other half are dirty, the maintenance line is closed on Saturday, and my kitchen is covered in water. Great.
Well, I couldn’t go anywhere (no clean clothes, well, I had clean dresses…but it was Saturday at 10 am and a cocktail dress would have been inappropriate attire), I couldn’t get anyone to answer the phone, and I had no clue how to fix the machine (or keep the puppy from playing in the newly created puddles and making things worse).
So, I did what any girl does when an appliance brakes. I called Daddy. Of course, since he’s five hours away, he couldn’t fix it. So, I opted for plan B in the “Girl’s Manual for Fixing Anything that Breaks”: I started kicking the machine…and pushing all of the buttons…and turning it on and off…and lecturing it…and begging it…and smacking it…til it finally kicked back on.
I then composed myself, cleaned up the water, re-ran the load in the machine, and finished my laundry. The rest of the day (what was left of it) went smoothly, thank goodness. And Sunday was nice and relaxing – Heather and I spent a few hours at Starbucks while I uploaded long overdue pictures to Facebook and then we came home, assembled a shelf, and watched the Sting. Turns out, Robert Redford and Paul Newman (plus a little quality roomie time and coffee) can make even a terrible-horrible-no good-very bad weekend better.
The week promises to be pretty light (which is good since I still have a good deal of prep work to do before school starts back on Monday). Can you believe it’s time for school again already? Yeah…well, ‘til then, dear readers. Happy Tuesday!
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