Apparently I’m having that kind of week

Today is Wednesday, which means the Hatchling and I have our weekly playdate with P and her daughter. We decided to lunch at a chi-chi little mall in Uptown and then do some Christmas shopping until the girls gave out. As I left the house, baby in tow, it crossed my mind that I hadn’t charged my cell phone in a while … but I was running late and didn’t have time to do anything about it. Anyway, I thought, I’ll be fine. I won’t need it. Got out to the car and the key wouldn’t turn in the ignition. This has happened before, though not in months, and a quick jiggle of the wheel-tilt mechanism usually solves it. I jiggled, the key turned, and we were off, only a little late. Got to the shops, met up with P, and strolled over to the Vietnamese restaurant we like. Had a delightful lunch; both babies were extremely well-behaved; all was going well. It was my turn to get the check, so when we were done I went to grab my wallet out of my copious purse/diaper bag … and it wasn’t there. Huh. Checked again … and nope. No wallet. Awesome. Must’ve left it at home. P graciously picked up the tab and promised to loan me enough money to get out of the parking garage. By now I’m feeling like a REAL genius, but am hoping a little Christmas browsing will make me feel better. We ding around a couple of the shops, and then it’s time to get the babies home for their naps. P slips me a $10 (bless her) and we part ways. Get in the car, and lo! The key will not turn in the ignition. Jiggle the wheel tilt, and lo! It still won’t turn. Fabulous. By this time the Hatchling is seriously ready to be in her crib, sleeping, so she cranks up the pipes. Speaking in soothing tones, I start jiggling the CRAP out of the steering wheel, moving it into every position it will go into and several that it probably won’t. I try shifting the car into neutral to see if that makes a difference. I start to lose my mind a little and put the emergency brake on and off, turn off the heat and radio buttons, open and close the doors – anything to voodoo my piece-of-crap automobile into succumbing to the key. Nothing doing. I go into the back seat, comfort the Hatchling until she calms down, and then try the whole rigamarole again. Having pushed both of our patiences to the limit, I give up. I’ll have to call AAA. Oh … except I don’t have my wallet, which has my AAA card in it. Fuck. OK, I’ll have to call Mr. Squab. Oh … except my phone has no charge. Fuckety-fuck-fuck. To infinity. Right. Get out of the car, get very cranky Hatchling out of the car, and trudge back into the mall to use the pay phone. Thank Christ, I actually have 50 cents in my pocket for the phone, and thank Krishna, Mr. Squab is actually at his desk. An hour later, we’re back at home, Mr. Squab having made arrangements to meet AAA at the parking garage at 7:00. Still can’t find my wallet, anywhere; realize I must have lost it yesterday when running errands at Target, and somehow didn’t notice because I’M INCREDIBLY STUPID. Argh. Mr. Squab gets home and takes us out to dinner at Famous Dave’s, because I need me some damn barbecue. The car gets towed to the mechanic, we call Target and they actually have my wallet, which I just got back from retrieving. All of which only proves that there really are guardian angels for the mentally deficient. OF WHICH I AM ONE.

Do you think if I stay in bed tomorrow I can avoid any more of this crap?

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