Day 34: Vacation

Like Bill Murray in the movie What About Bob? I am taking a vacation.

Not a vacation to Florida. I have no money for that.
Not a vacation from my problems. They're still here.
Not a vacation from work - I enjoy my job - from writing - I LOVE writing - or from art - what would I do when Nathan plays video games???

Not even a little mini-vacation to Starbucks.

Although I DO have money for that, and I might just go there after supper - with Nathan, of course. And some graph paper. We have been meaning to have a "Renovation-Planning" date for a while now.

No, I am taking a vacation from trying to be perfect.

If you just thought, "What!? I didn't know she was trying to do that!"
It's okay. I understand your confusion.
Obviously, the whole perfect thing is not going as well as I'd like.

In fact, I thought I'd already sunk pretty low on the perfect-o-meter.
But then yesterday morning happened.

If there is an award for the worst morning ever, I would like to apply.

If there is not an award for the worst morning ever, I motion that we create one ...
and then I would like to apply.

Yesterday morning was shocking.

Literally.

Apparently, when my one hand is holding metal measuring spoons and turning the metal knob that adjusts the heat on the stove and my other hand is stirring Cream of Brown Rice* in a metal pot with a metal whisk, my body completes some kind of circuit.

I actually felt the electricity enter my left hand, travel through my body, and exit my right hand. And then it happened again.

And then my morning got worse.

I was running late - the price for sleeping in - and after I let the dogs out for a pee and got them settled inside (Sam in his crate with Mickey Mouse's remains, a vibrating bark collar, and a peanut butter Kong), I made sure I had my keys, cell phone, and wallet, and I left the building.

Outside, I dragged the garbage dolly out of the snow and set it at the end of our driveway. Then I decided to check if our renters had paid yet.

Woot! They had. Smiling happily, I headed for the car. And then I heard it.

That sound.

It was worse than a troupe of howler monkeys.

(At this point I should add that Kia was in a standing heat and both dogs had completely lost their minds.) 

I had known this was going to happen, and I was prepared. As calmly as I could, I re-entered the house, set the keys down, called Nathan, and told him I was going to let Sam stay out of his crate. We would have to take our chances with just the belly band. The dogs quieted immediately, and I left the house.

But as soon as I heard the door click behind me, I knew.

I'd left the keys inside.

(At this point I should add that we only have one set of house keys, and that I am not responsible for losing the missing set.)

I called Nathan, somewhat less calmly than before, and explained my predicament. To his eternal credit, he was not upset, and promised to bring a crowbar and stop at Home Depot on the way home for a new doorknob set.

Thankfully, I still had my car keys, so I was able to drive to work. Did I mention I was running late?

I backed to the end of that driveway like I was racing in the Kentucky Derby (except in a car). Did I mention it was garbage day?

I hit that garbage can so hard that it fell over and spilled garbage into the street.

So if you wondered about that crazy woman who was kneeling in the middle of Fulton Avenue in rush hour traffic ... now you know.

I was, however, miraculously on time for work. God is definitely trying to tell me something about my prayer life. 

Now you also know who that crazy woman was waiting in her car at Home Depot around 4:45 pm, licking the icing off the top of her donut and then eating the filling.** Look me in the eye and tell me you've never wanted to do that.

(A drawing of my eye.)

To make a long story short, by the time I arrived home, Nathan had forcibly gained entry and was in the process of installing a new door knob (and deadbolt). He explained the various security features this doorknob has. He explained how the deadbolt works.

He explained that if I locked myself out again, he would have to break down the door.

Not good.

I went inside. Sam was still in his belly band. Sort of. And his belly band was soaked. But not with pee.

You do not want to know what my house smells like right now.

I put the belly band in the laundry bucket. Did I mention I only bought one belly band? I also called my nurse-mother and discussed what consequences this union might have. Then I started supper.

Sam, however, took advantage of his new-found freedom.

Let's just say ... we're having puppies.

And that is the story of why I'm done trying to be perfect. Goodbye for now ... while I enjoy chilling on the couch with my two dogs (who have magically returned to normal) and a few handfuls of my favorite seasonal candy (cinnamon hearts).

I lie.

Actually, I'm going to do some laundry and clean the kitchen. The dogs are back to normal though. And I am eating cinnamon hearts.

Happy Vacationing!

*Despite smelling and looking like baby puke, it's quite good with brown sugar.
** Since going (temporarily?) gluten free, I've decided to view it as an opportunity to see food in new ways. Hence the cream of rice cereal, and the donut.