Yesterday was an all-wrong day. NOTHING, just absolutely NOTHING went well, except that the Adorables were better than usual, more loving, more interested in including me in their play and discussions. Lack of sleep for a week had just about done me in. So I went to bed early last night and told myself I WOULD feel good this morning, and I WOULD have a good day. Perhaps because my inner voice is almost as intimidating as James Earl Jones' most serious tone, I woke up feeling quite nice, thank you.
And ready to play!
All was well. The morning buzzed by in a blur of studio tasks that were actually fun, lunch was a wonderful bit of quiche my niece left me over the weekend, and I wrapped everything up just in time to pick up the Adorables from school. We had a snack, Ethan used the potty not once, but TWICE (!!!), and we went out to enjoy the sunny afternoon. We would play until 4:30, when I would take the children home and we would have dinner there tonight.
Then things changed. The power went out. I couldn't get the car out of the garage (duuh), and placing a power outage report is now a major, blood pressure-raising ordeal, as you have to know account numbers or social security numbers to leave a report via phone. No human interface. On top of that, I don't pay the bills, and Charles is out of town so he couldn't tell me we are not Georgia Power Customers . . . .
James Earl Jones' voice became small and child-like as I began to unravel.
In the end, Jordan came and picked us up, we had a delightful meal (he was the chef), and when Julie came home from the hospital, he brought me home to a house with lights shining brightly. No matter how true it might be, it can be difficult to remember that it could have been so much worse when you are in the throes of power outage.
It is good to be home and ready to go to bed. It is after 9:30, so I won't embarrass myself too badly by going to bed with the chickens. Tomorrow will be a good day. It WILL be good.
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