Beast and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

There are some days when things just don’t go your way. Ask Alexander, in the book by Judith Viorst. He knows.

I had one of those days last week. I didn’t wake up with gum in my hair, but I did wake up with child parts draped all over me and the backache that goes with remaining stationary for too long.

We had the normal battles getting clothes on, brushing hair and teeth and recognizing the importance of wearing a coat when the weather turns cool. Then we headed off to school. Nothing too exciting there, except that we needed to share our moldy pumpkin with our classmates, so mush-head needed to travel with us. And my tea spilled on my lap. And my water I moved so my tea could take it’s place didn’t have the top screwed on quite tight enough.

So I drove to work, and found my normal parking lot with it’s “full” sign out front. “BALONEY”, I said and proceeded to drive around the very full parking garage in search of a spot. There WAS a spot, for a car without doors, maybe. But not for me. So I went to my second choice garage and scouted around 5 more floors of spots. No luck. Try the valet, even though I hate leaving my keys, they’re full too. Go to #3 parking lot, out in the rain and about a MILE away. (OK, not that far, but still it’s a trek.) Find a spot and feel grumpy about wasting about 45 minutes trying to park.

This is where it gets fun! While crossing the street in the crosswalk provided, I’m about 1/3 across when a big old white van guns its engine and drives straight for me! It was like I was in one of those movies where the bad guy is trying to take out the witness who will put him away for life. But of course, it wasn’t and I’m not. The crosswalker (me) SCREAMS and jumps – two steps, maybe three, but I’m sure no more than that. See, those guys in the movies know what’s coming so they’re not glued to their shoes. They actually have the presence of mind to throw their bodies out of the way. I’m here to tell you (Thank you, Lord) that two steps, maybe three is really the max. So driver screeches to a stop and crosswalker who has just seen that she was going to be thrown, but wondered seemingly casually in which direction, looks down to see a silver bumper touching her thigh. No bump, no real hit. Just a damn close call. That might be enough, but instead, crazy driver (I do not use that term loosely here) rolls down his window and screams “I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! OK??? I’M SORRY! OK?? I’M SORRY, OK?”. I have still not quite discovered how to breathe yet and can only raise my hands and shake my head as I push away from the van and finish my walk to the curb. I get there successfully and start the rest of my walk to the office, nodding at the nice people who all stopped in their tracks and are now asking me if I’m ok. But since I’ve only started breathing again, I can’t talk and simply nod in their direction. But crazy driver is not content. Crazy driver decides to park his weapon of destruction at the curb and run over to me, waving arms wildly and yelling “I’M SORRY! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? I’M SORRY!” Several times. Enough that more people stopped. All I wanted was for him to stop yelling at me after he nearly killed me. That’s all I wanted. But could I tell him that? No. I’m still concentrating on getting my eyes back to their regular size and my breathing to stop hurting. That and I was THIS close to tears. I did not need crazy driver yelling at me. I finally managed a weak “I’m fine. Leave me alone.” and continued my slow shaky walk.

Work is actually OK. I keep shaking and can’t seem to contain the nausea, but it’s not so terrible that I can’t get things done. I find I’m distracted and make stupid mistakes, but nothing harmful, so I’m feeling lucky.

It occurs to me that I carry a guardian angel given to me by my sister several years ago. It’s about the size of a quarter, and I keep it in my coin purse so I’ve tried to spend it a few times, but thankfully that’s never quite worked. So I’m semi convinced that the guardian angel works now. Or maybe I’m just a little crazy myself. I do know that in the past few days, I find myself jumping when cars move and I am near them. I feel a little like those meerkats whose quick and jerky head movements are always so entertaining as it looks like they are so very alert. Well, maybe they’re just jumpy. I know the feeling.

Back to my day… this happens to be the evening of callbacks, which I am decidedly NOT looking forward to. But we get there on time and learn a dance. I’m not a great dancer after 30+ years away from it, but I learn it and I know I’m not the worst. I do not, however, get picked to be in the group to learn the “more advanced” dance. Fine with me. So far, I am NOT impressed with the way this call back is being run. We turn into our favorite jungle animals and we sing as a group – a HUGE group. Not smaller little groups where they can actually hear our voices. “Thank you very much, you can leave now. We will let you know early next week. Let’s say a prayer of thanks.” Huh? You can cast from THAT? OK then!

I wait around, because DDD is participating in a call back for that smaller part. She’s clearly the strongest singer of the group, but several of them were very good dancers. (She’s no schlump in that department, but she wasn’t clearly the best dancer, just ONE OF the best dancers.) The director moves them around, changes parts, looks at them this way and that and thanks them, letting them go. That was as close to feeling like he was really paying attention as I got the whole time. I’m still not impressed, and frankly hoping that I do not get cast. For DDD’s sake, I hope she does get cast, because she’s feeling antsy and wants to do something!

Only one car decides it wants to occupy the space I am in on the way home, so I count myself lucky. We get home, having digested that whole “callback” and go to bed. Fortunately for me, the next days are MUCH better.

Oh… and neither one of us got cast. I hope I didn’t ruin it for her, but I’m breathing a sigh of relief.