My day so far? Funny you should ask. (I know, you didn't ask, but you're gonna hear about it anyway because I don't have anyone else to vent to who'd understand):
1. We awaken to a back yard filled with water and the pool down about 7 inches. At some point during the night, the top of the pool filter cracked and apparently we had fountains of water shooting out to rival those at the Bellagio. Turns out the filter just went off warranty THREE MONTHS ago, and the company is unwilling to help. Total cost for a new top: $650.
2. DH was swatting away a bee yesterday afternoon and gently smacked his hand against the side of the house. Came inside 5 minutes later and said, "Boy my finger hurts." It was the size of a sausage. And it's on his left hand. And he's left-handed. Long story short, he broke it - thank you osteoporosis. Our general practitioner says get him to the hand surgeon, DH being a composer and pianist and all.
3. While running errands this morning before taking DH to the hand surgeon, I decide to be really, really smart and get a flu shot at a clinic I see being held at the drugstore. When the 10 year-old nurse jams the needle into my upper arm, it goes right into the muscle and the muscle contracts. My gasp for breath sucks all the oxygen out of the store, I'm sure of it. I already have a bruise the size of New Jersey where the needle went in, and can barely lift my arm (my excuse for not cooking dinner tonight).
4. I exit the store to find that some j****** let his shopping cart roll across the parking lot... into the back side of my car. Welcome, quarter-sized dent. Oh yeah... and a bird crapped all over the roof.
5. Take DH to the surgeon. Check my email on the iPhone while in the waiting room (had lots of time, since we waited for 75 minutes) and realize that I have forgotten all about an important conference call with a client. I don't know why I should have remembered, given that it's written in my datebook and is on iCal on my computer and iPhone and all. Feel like a complete dolt.
6. Surgeon makes a stunning diagnosis of "broken finger." Asks DH if it hurts. DH says not too much. Surgeon is pressing on the finger and as DH asks, "What's that little bump near my fingernail?" the doctor replies, "A bone," and pushes down. Screaming ensues (me, not DH) and once we pick DH up off the floor, the doctor says "Come back next Tuesday and we'll see if we have to operate." DH is now insisting on a full tray of double-chocolate brownies and ice cream for dinner.
That's been my day so far. But you know what? With all that, we came home to a happy Doodle who acted as if we'd been away for three months and gave us love and kisses and smiles.
Funny how that's all it takes to set the day right again.
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