Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

If I were a children's book character, today my name would be Alexander.

First, I went to an orthopedic MD for a second opinion on my broken foot. Can't remember if I've discussed it here but I fractured my foot (the little pea-sized bone on the ball of my foot under the big toe) in July and have been hobbling around in a walking cast/boot since late August. Which, if you know the challenges of chasing a very mobile nine-month-old around, you'll understand is not easy. Oh, and by the way, I broke my foot walking in ill-fitting sandals around the mall. Because the universe thought it would be fun to have that be my answer when the 10 people ask me every day how I broke it.

Anyway, I got lost on the way to my appointment (at a hospital I typically do not use) this morning, because even though I've been to this hospital before and it's in a place I should know how to get to, I could get lost in a parking lot. So I was already rattled when I arrived. My anxiety snowballed when I had to wait forever to be seen by a fellow, was sent for more x-rays with a technician who seemed nonplussed by the whole thing as if he just graduated from x-ray technician school, had to wait again to see the real doctor and was told he recommends removing the bone surgically. By the time I left the place just before noon, I was already in need of a strong cocktail.

As I drove to get H at my mother's house, I discovered a message from my realtor. We had our house on the market most of the summer and early fall, became disheartened that it hadn't sold and sick of trying to juggle all the showings with the messy needs of a baby, and took it off the market last week. But a couple who had seen it before wanted another showing, so we agreed to let them see it this morning. The agent was writing to say that the couple loved the house, our decor, blah blah blah, but thought it was too small (which you'd think could have occurred to them during one of the first two showings they'd already had).

Then, because I needed another reason for aggravation, I took H to his music class where he was the victim (word selected for a little added drama) of a little incident. The teacher was taking away one of those baby crawl-through tunnels, folding it up from one end. When she got to the other end where H was leaning, instead of gently taking him off she basically pulled it out from under him, and he promptly fell back and bumped his head. She then attempted a half-assed apology in which she tried to say she thought he could stand on his own, tried to blame my being upset on my problems with my foot and tried to say I should have been there to tell her not to do it. This last one annoys me in particular since I watched the whole thing from about four feet away and made a conscious effort (before I saw that she was going to basically make him fall) not to be neurotic since surely, surely the trustworthy teacher was not going to let anything happen to him.

I am very good at displacing feelings, particularly anxiety and anger. So the bad news from my doctor's appointment was the perfect excuse to release pent-up frustration on the realtor (which, to be fair and make me sound less crazy, is based on concrete issues with him around selling our house). The thing with H at class was easy to be really pissed off about given my state of mind, and also became about my issues with trusting others to take care of H like I do (this setting me back by serving as proof that actually, my being more neurotic in that case would have paid off). I also snuck in some vengeful eating -- a McDonald's cheeseburger and small fry in the car while H slept in the car (so rebellious, like comfort food with a dark side, given my usual fast-food boycott).

Oh and my frustration with my day makes me hate the TLC commercial for the Sarah Palin special, where she pretends to be outdoorsy and folksy, even more. I mean, seriously, TLC?

Still, all of the above is nothing a little red wine can't fix. Or three glasses. Not that I've had three glasses, just -- theoretically.

Tomorrow is a new day.


Anonymous said...

Hugs. Days where you think you should be named Alexander are always awful. I'm exactly the same with food- on a really bad day it gives me an insane amount of pleasure to eat something really bad for me. :)

Roccie said...

My love for you grows deeper. All things Palin make me insane. Rocco messes with me and refers to her as Governor Palin whenever she is in the news. Ew.

Vengeful eating allowed me to enjoy an lol. Do you know how hard it is to lol in the 2ww?

Proud of you for not jumping on the teacher. No win situation. She would have felt you cramped her style had you said anything, yet blames you when you don't.

I broke my foot this year as well. SUCKS and that boot is $450 if I recall. Insurance was hesitant to pay for it. What.

I feel for you trying to sell a house. We are unintentional land barons. We both have the properties from before we married as an investment. Enough said. Who will buy these? No one. We could use the money as much as we could use air.

I see your No Good Day and toast you for surviving it!

Jamie said...

Ugh - it's like the bad has to save itself all up and then snowball on you all on the same day.

I know that once I get rattled, my emotions are very trigger happy the rest of the day.

I hope you got that glass of wine!

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