Friday, April 8, 2011

Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Today is one of those days.

I know it's one of those days because I've been up for all of an hour and forty five minutes and I'm already kicking myself for getting out of bed this morning despite having the knowledge it was going to be a horrible day. And I knew when I first woke up that it was going to be a bad day. 

I'll spare you the details as to what clearly indicated going to work today would be a bad idea, but let's just say that it was a sign beyond a shadow of a reasonable doubt. 

After that first sign, I got in the shower. No hot water for some reason. No idea why. Plus thanks to the first sign I had to give Choo Choo a bath. 

Things went normally until it was time to check my things before putting on my make up. Do not ask me WHY I always check my things before I put on my make up. That's just the order of my routine. I'm sure there was some logical reason I started doing it that way, but that was years ago. I don't remember the thought process. Only that this is the way it's always been since I can remember. And this morning there was a kink in the wheel of my time. My Debit Card was missing.

What? Call to Padawan. Text. Text. Text. Where is my card???? Not in my wallet. Not in my purse. Not in my computer case. Where? WHERE???????

In Rosebud's jacket.

Don't ask how it got there. I can't tell you because I don't know.

By the time I found my card I had two choices: put on my make up and be late for work (like every other employee), or go to work and just not wear make up. My phone was in my hand and I seriously considered calling Jay Jay to tell him I was going to be late. But then...I didn't want to be like everybody else. At great personal sacrifice, I grabbed my things and came to work with nothing but morning glow moisturizer on my face. Oh, the horror. 

My eyebrows? They are blond. 

Blond eyebrows with really dark brown hair. Do you guys have any idea how ridiculous this looks? It's way more ridiculous that dark eyebrows with blond hair. That's how freaking silly this looks. I haven't had a face this bare since I was sixteen years old. That was when I discovered the wonder of mascara and eyeshadow. None of that, now. 

I'm rocking my beach look, minus the swim suit.

The whole way to work I was obsessing about the lack of even the bare amount of mascara. I had completely skipped the face routine. This wasn't good. Would the world end? Would everybody hate me? If I died, would the world think I was a horribly lazy girl who didn't even take the bare minimal of time to make herself a little more presentable in the morning?

When I stopped to pick up my latte this morning I was pretty worked up. I am already a fairly high strung person. Add unnecessary stress about things I don't normally have to stress over and I'm a time bomb waiting to explode. I left Starbucks with my coffee and was immediately assaulted by a cricket.

A fucking cricket. On top of everything else that had already gone wrong in my morning, after everything I'd already been through, I was attacked by a god damned cricket sent straight from the bowels of hell to ruin my already fucked up day. 

I screamed and dropped my latte.

God damn it to hell. That latte was the only part of my morning that was a guaranteed bit of perfection.

I nearly cried.

Instead, I got really pissed off. Really angry. I'd already woken up to a nightmare, taken a cold shower, lost my card, and didn't finish my morning routine in the way I generally finish it. That little fucker had the nerve to cost me my one solace in the face of a miserable fucking day, and for the first time in my life I deliberately stepped on a bug and felt a little satisfaction at the crunching sound that normally disgusts me. I killed that cricket. It was awesome. I felt on top of the world. I struck a blow for my freedom.

One small step for man, one great leap for Chanel-kind and that jazz.

Then I turned around and went back inside to buy another coffee. The Barista gave me a new one for free, bless her heart. She's so sweet. I'm in almost every morning, so I guess she knew I couldn't possibly make up the whole cricket thing. She might have heard me scream, though. It was a really good scream.

I got to work.

And then the first news of reprieve. The phone lines were down. Ah, sweet justice, how you thrill me when you exercise your powers in my favor. It was only for thirty minutes or so, but it kept me from bursting into tears when I got to work.

Because I should have stayed home, in bed, where it was safe and nothing could upset me.

Then, because I felt like showing just how good of an employee I am, I told Jay Jay that I totally could have been late and that I nearly called, but decided not to even though it cost a great and very personal sacrifice on my part.

Then he asked, "What's the great personal sacrifice?"

Well, I didn't expect him to ask. Who asks?

Not that my great personal sacrifice wasn't great. It was. In the land of my neurotic self, altering my morning rituals in any way is a monumental occurrence in the world I live in. My rituals generally trump everything else by means of importance.

But seeing as it was make up and it was only five minutes of sacrifice, and Jay Jay is male, I didn't want to tell him what sacrifice. It's no fun to be mocked, and most people would find that a mocking offense.

"It was just a great personal sacrifice."

"Yeah. But what's the sacrifice?"

*sigh* "I didn't put on my  make up! There!"

"You're not wearing any make up?"

"No. And it's bugging me. Look at my eyebrows!"

"You look gorgeous!"

That makes it almost worth it.

And then Raver lent me her mascara and I put some on and I felt a little better. Except my eyebrows are still blond and don't match my hair. But at least I have better eyelashes now. It's the little things that count.


  1. Ick! It's days like that that make me wish I had a padded room someplace where I could just throw myself against the walls and scream for a few hours. Plus, it locks from the inside, so no one can bother me. And there's a freezer, stocked with Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

    Anyway, I'm glad you had a few saving graces this morning, and I hope your day will improve dramatically from here. :)

  2. PS: That cricket was TOTALLY asking for what it got. No guilt necessary on your part! Maybe the sight of its dead body will discourage any other crickets from messing with you!

  3. Padded room sounds good to me! Especially if the Ben & Jerry's is the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough one, because that's my favorite.

    And I'm still proud of myself for killing the cricket. But I bet I still run from the next one that crosses my path. Unless it waits until a day like today.

  4. I think we must have been separated at birth. (Well, except for the blond eyebrow part. Mine are darker than that.) But when my routine is screwed up for whatever reason, it's like the world is going to explode. I get so flustered and can't seem to turn it around. I'm sorry the cricket attacked you, but is it wrong that I probably would have paid money to watch? I'm playing it in my head and it's still cracking me up. Probably because I've had similar things happen to me and I can only imagine what I looked like. As far as the makeup goes, my husband has told me for a couple of years he likes me better without makeup. Why, I have no clue, but that what he says. Guys seem to like the au natural look. So now, unless I'm really hitting the town or there is a chance my picture could be taken, I go without. Saves me time getting ready. Although, I probably wouldn't have time to put any on after getting the kids ready to go. So it's probably for the best that Hubby likes me without.

    Anyway, now that I've talked for what seems like an hour, I hope your day improves and your evening is completely relaxing and event-free.

  5. Hannah, it's good to see you back! We might have been separated at birth. My family always joked I was the Milk Man's daughter because I'm kind of weird as far as my family goes.

    Well Padawan says I look the same either way, but that time is still in the ritual. There's a full five minutes set aside for moisturizer and make up. It's not that it's necessary. Just that that's the way it has been for...almost seven years! I can't help it.

    My day is going better, thank you.

  6. I hate it when morning routines are disturbed. I'm usually a zombie until about 10:30, so if I don't have a routine, things don't happen.

    Good thing I have a baby now...everything goes so smoothly with him...not...

  7. Babies do not respect the routines of inferior beings made to serve them. You are a slave to his whims. :)

  8. Of COURSE there would be the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, and my personal favorite: Half Baked. That stuff is AWESOME at the end of a bad day. You should try it sometime. :)

    I run from bugs too. I still remember the day I nearly drove off the road because a freaking moth was in my car and decided to fly directly into my face at exactly the wrong moment. Stupid bugs.

  9. Funny thing is that sometimes, when someone is having a really bad day, a kindly cricket comes to them and offers good karma for the remainder of the afternoon. The fact you crushed Jimmy and his gifting cricketness might be the butterfly effect...minus the butterfly. I did spill my own coffee this morning.

    Also, your chemical dependency for facial manipulation is completely unnecessary. I seen you partially within a motorcycle helmet and the natural beauty thing comes to mind...the creep factor of myself being a decade older also comes to mind so I go.

  10. Oh, good. I love the chocolate chip cookie dough. The half baked that the one with the cake in it?

    Yeah. Bugs are fairly annoying. Some of them are necessary. And the ones that aren't necessary feed the ones that ARE necessary. So we're kind of stuck with them.

  11. No, Half Baked is chocolate and vanilla ice cream swirled together with chocolate chip cookie dough AND chunks of brownie. It's oh so fabulous. :)

  12. Scott, I did not kill Jiminy Cricket. He didn't have a top hat and an umbrella. Also, Jiminy Cricket is green and has brown eyes, not a creepy black exoskeleton with buggy black eyes. And Jiminy Cricket didn't even jump, so I'm not convinced he's even a cricket...I think I got off topic there. What was my point? Oh yeah. I think the Japanese are wrong about crickets being good luck. They eat fish that's been packed in salt and rice for ten years and has never been cooked. You can't trust everything they come up with, especially about the crickets. In fact, I think crickets are evil little demon creatures that are hell bent on taking over the planet, and they're trying to take me out because I know their plan.

    My other point is...It's not that I think I need to wear make up because I'm unattractive. I wear a minimal amount of make up. It's a five minute routine which only takes so long because putting on mascara is a delicate process when you wear contacts. One stab in the eye and you've ruined that contact. It's just the way it's always been since my mother started letting me wear make up. Which is a total big deal when you're sixteen years old and all of your friends have been wearing make up since middle school.

    Also, if you were a hundred and I was ninety would you think there was a creep factor? You worry too much.

  13. Candice, I have not tried it. But now I must. Half Baked. Oh...sometimes I make brownies but I substitute vegetable oil with Phish Phood ice cream. I wonder...brownies with chunks of brownie and cookie dough inside...Oh, yes. I have so GOT to get me some of that.

  14. Ammendment: alright, so I have a minor addiction to my make up because I like to look just that much prettier. I swear the bigger issue behind it is the routine part, though. I'm not completely shallow.

  15. It's bad luck to kill a cricket, I think.(Chinese fold lore, I think. I could be all wrong about that.) From the pictures that I have seen, you don't need make up. Jay Jay is right.

  16. You're right, George. It IS Chinese folk lore. Did I don't know why I said Japanese. I need to adjust my argument. The Chinese can't be trusted in all things because they eat fermented, pickled bamboo shoots and that stuff smells really REALLY bad. I've never had anything good happen while a cricket was hanging around, either. I want PROOF, George. Give me proof of this cricket luck. I won't kill another one. But I'll still run away.

    And thank you.

  17. If I were a 100 and you 90...yes, but for a whole new set of reasons.

  18. Well, yeah, if you look at it THAT way. But I was actually referring to a creep factor because of the age difference. Not the ages themselves. Fifty and forty might be a better comparison.

  19. I hate when I'm running late and don't have time to do my make-up and then I got assaulted by a cricket that makes me spill my coffee. Happens to me all the time. :)

    Seriously though, I go down and get my coffee at lunchtime, and one day I came back and I was giving someone a break on this job where you used a drill press to cut out the circular piece in the middle of the part. The drill press wasn't quite set right, so if you came down a just a tad too hard the circular disc of plastic would come shooting out. Well, I had my coffee sitting on the table nearby and I was doing one of the parts and the disc shot out and took out my coffee, spilling it all over the floor. A one in a million shot. It was definitely upsetting to lose my coffee.

  20. A one in a million shot! Wow. It's unfortunate video cameras are not used as frequently in the workplace in places outside of where I work. That would be an interesting thing to watch in slow motion.

    I certainly hope you taught that drill press a lesson.

  21. "I was attacked by a god damned cricket sent straight from the bowels of hell to ruin my already fucked up day."

    Please don't think me cruel or unsympathetic--but that sentence CRACKED ME UP. This story--while painful to you, I'm sure--was one of the best blog stories I've read all week. Especially the ninja cricket. And the resulting revenge. And good for you for saying no to makeup! I've just now managed to run errands without makeup. I look like a tranny that just rolled out of bed when I do so, but it's a process.

  22. I don't think you're cruel and unsympathetic. Padawan said that it sounded funny when I said bowels. He suggested I change it to pits of hell. But the bowels of hell sound so much worse. Nasty things come from bowels. Even worse things come from the bowels of hell.

    I'm pretty sure that in order to look anything like a tranny you need to have masculine features. I hate to break it to you, Nicki, but your features are far from masculine. So it's impossible that you look like a tranny by any stretch of the imagination. You have a very feminine face. Impossible to be anything but lovely. And I bet I could ask Derrick and he would agree.

  23. I've seen your picture. As a staunch anti-cosmeticist, I think you would look just stunning without makeup. I much prefer to see what a person really looks like, not the mask they hide behind.

  24. It seems to be the general consensus among men: they don't like cosmetics. Which is interesting when you think about it. Women spend a lot of money on the cosmetics, then spend the time putting them on (most women have a fifteen minute make up routine) all for the sake of being more attractive to men who, when it comes down to it, would rather women not wear it in the first place. Cosmetic companies must have a really brilliant marketing technique that includes subliminal messaging. I can't see how they manage to do it otherwise. Not that I'm stopping my routine. My use is minimal amounts. It's not like I'm piling on the foundation and powder and blush with the blending stuff.


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