A Tale of a Tuesday.

There is something about Tuesdays. I don't know what it is, but they always seem to be bad days. Mondays never give me too much trouble; it's the Tuesday you gotta look out for. Maybe it's become more of a self fulfilling prophecy than anything else, but whatever the reason, I find myself cringing as Tuesday approaches.

With that said, I give you yesterday. A terrible Tuesday.

If you read my blog yesterday, you saw that I had crazy Mad Men induced nightmares about James joining the army and leaving me for a year (Joan's mean husband! Uggghhh!) and my house catching on fire (not from Mad Men. Just weird and scary). You also saw that I did not sleep and was therefore a zombie all day. Like literally. I was completely incapable of holding a conversation until roughly 1pm.

Yesterday also happened to be day 2 of my intense carpal tunnel flare up. I've had carpal tunnel issues since high school from playing piano many hours a day. Since I now type 40+ hours a week, it's made a comeback in the worst possible way. And yesterday was one of the worst. The pain was so bad I could hardly move my elbows, moving my fingers made me whimper, and my upper arms even started to ache.

And of course it was the day I had to help out the accounting department and enter checks into a cash log. For anyone unaware (I'm jealous), it means you entire in every piece of info on a check into a spreadsheet. I believe it's a form of torture used at Guantanamo Bay. Boring, tedious, and a breeding ground for carpal tunnel. Even on my good days it puts me in pain. So I had to take multiple breaks to let the inflammation calm down (breaks = reading all your blogs).

As I was sitting at work, I got a text from James that he has to go to the doctor on his lunch break. He has a fierce overbite that causes him to bite his cheek, often leaving a gaping hole in his mouth that quickly gets infected. Cute, I know. Anyway, he accidentally but his cheek several times over the weekend and knew he needed an antibiotic. So off to the doctor he went.

And while James was at the doctor, I had the luncheon to go to. Oh, the luncheon. Let me tell you about the luncheon! First of all, my boss told me I was going even though it had nothing to do with my job. And I won't get into the fact that she's stealing my sacred hour of alone time to stick me at a table with some of the most annoying people of all time.

So the luncheon. First of all, I'm not sure how much I've explained what I do. I work at a nonprofit that works with a bunch of agencies to help chronically homeless people find housing and jobs and treatment for addictions. One of the big funding organizations hosted this luncheon (the purpose of it, I still have no idea. No one does).

The program starts with the CEO of the organization giving a speech. All I can say is that it was just like watching Sarah McLachlan on the ASPCA commercial. There was sad music, there were highly ridiculous things said in order to play on emotions, and the whole time she sounded like she was .23 seconds away from sobbing hysterically and falling into a deep depression over homelessness. I mean, even the diehard social workers at the table were laughing.

But then! Suddenly, up in the two side balconies! A gospel choir chanting "housing is the answer! housing is the answer! housing is the answer!" And the speaker continues, telling us that they have discovered that housing is the secret to ending homelessness. no duh! You give a person a house, they are no longer homeless. My cat could've told you that! And it was announced as though they just found the cure for cancer.

But then! There was SKIT. Yes, a skit! All about a homeless family and their little girl and how they gave away their dog French Fry and wound up in a shelter. It was just oozing with extra sharp cheddar cheese. And there were so many cringe worthy cheesy moments I couldn't even stand it. I just wish you could've witnessed it.

But then! About every ten minutes, the lights would dim and a soloist would walk on stage and belt out a million things about how housing is the answer to homelessness, and the choir in the balconies would chant "Columbus is my home!" roughly fifteen times. And then the skit would continue. Please note, I realize this is an important cause. It's just that everything was so over the top it was impossible to take seriously.
I wanted to take pictures to give you guys an idea of the over the top ridiculousness, but I know coworkers would've asked questions, and I really didn't want to explain what an instagram is and why I'm using it. And that's treading dangerously close to someone at work finding out I have a blog. And I would think that maybe they could find it anyway, but I don't really worry about that since I recently had to teach a guy how to copy and paste.

So anyway. After the luncheon I went back to work. And it was cloudy, so naturally all my coworkers looked out the window yelling oh no! rain! oh my gosh! it's gonna rain! help! why! where did the sun go! oh no! rain! no!

And as I do every time a cloud covers the sun, I gently remind them that a cloud does not necessarily mean rain. And they go but yes! it looks like rain! oh no! it's going to rain! the cloud is grey! rain! rain! rain! help!

These people freak about rain like a cat in a bathtub. I want to bring in some sort of social science professional to conduct a study.
So after an afternoon of willing my carpal tunnel to cooperate and blog reading on the sly, I decided that I had two goals after work: to eat chipotle and go straight to bed. That's it. No gym. No cleaning. Just food and bed.

Husband was kind enough to bring me a chicken burrito bowl, and my chipotle tunnel vision caused me to inhale the entire thing to the sound of the RHONY premiere without a second thought to my healthy eating and calorie counting. Whoops. And while I was in a food coma on the couch half listening to rich blonde women scream at each other, James walked to the kitchen to conquer the pile of dishes in the sink.

Not two minutes later I hear a scream and the sound of the paper towel holder whirling in circles as he rips pieces off. I knew. I knew exactly what had happened. My happy green vegetable knife that I had used to cut the papaya. James was washing it, and it slipped and deeply sliced his right index finger.

I would like to explain something before I continue. I come from a medical family. I've worked in many medical establishments and even successfully completed a semester of nursing school. I know some stuff. But with my level of exhaustion and frustration over the long and crazy day, any kind of knowledge I've ever had flew out the window. So I semi freaked. And wrapped a paper towel around his finger and put ice on it? Anything I could think of to stop the bleeding. And it would not stop. So we finally decided to go to urgent care for stitches.

Since I was wearing multi colored striped pajama pants and an old college tee shirt, I knew I should find some respectable pants to put on before going into public. So I ran upstairs in a frenzy to find pants. Except there was this problem with being exhausted and worrying about James bleeding to death and/or dying of flesh eating bacteria and all of that taking up too much brain space because I stood in my bedroom and thought: Wait. Pants. What are those again? Where do I keep them? How do I put them on?

I'm not quite sure what happened after that. Something about finding gym shorts in my underwear drawer and yelling at my cat for sleeping on a quilt in my closet. But I managed to put on completely unmatching sweats. But I was wearing (sweat)pants, so I consider this a win.

On the way to urgent care I stopped at in intersection and saw some weird movements out of the corner of my eye. I looked over to see  a woman doing something to a cabbage patch doll. I looked at James and said what is she doing? Why does she look like she's performing surgery on a doll?

And then finally I noticed that she's sticking Toy Story stickers all over this doll's face. And then she proudly positioned the doll on the dashboard of her minivan, smiled, and drove into the sunset. People, you can't make this stuff up!! I looked at James and simply screamed WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE ENTIRE WORLD?! And he laughed, equally as disturbed as I was. You'll probably see her on a new TLC show.
We got to urgent care twenty minutes before closing. Perfect. We sat down with the receptionist who was completely unenthused about life and TAKING PERSONAL CALLS while also taking twenty minutes to type in our address. Then we went back to the room where the nurse gave James a quick tetanus shot because Lord knows he probably never had one growing up in the backwoods of North Carolina (no offense James. You rock at life.) We can all agree that James getting a shot upset me more than him. Heaven help me and my future children.

At this point it was well past closing time and because we were the ONLY patients in the facility, the doctor only  made us wait about 40 minutes. How sweet of him. We discussed taxes and advertising propaganda (yeah I don't know either how this happened) and suddenly James turned 5 years old, pulled his shirt up, and went hey! look at my scar from getting my appendix out! Boys.

He wound up with three stitches and a cranky wife. We walked out of the building as the nurses locked the door and went to their cars.  And then I saw this sunset, which kind of made up for the whole ordeal.

So then I got home by the time I'd hoped to be sleeping. And as I walked upstairs, I heard a muffled meow coming from somewhere in the bedroom. I searched and listened until I opened the closet door and out came a grey and white kitty. In my quest for pants, I must have shut her in there. Poor thing.

And all I have to say is, welcome to my Tuesday.

Psssst. I never mean for this to happen, but my blog posts always turn into a novel. I know this is a big blogger don't, but I laugh in the face of blog "rules." So if you stick with me through all these long posts, I love you.


  1. We live a parallel work life, I swear. I also work at nonprofit. I also hide the fact that I have a blog. AND I also work with CRAZY, CRAZY people.

    Seriously, there's a thumb sucker and a witch. I can't even make this stuff up.

    I hate going to luncheons. I hate spending my very few minutes of free time with people I don't know, and do not want to know. I've YET to have a luncheon as exciting as that one, though!

    I'm sorry James cut his hand. I think it's safe to say my boyfriend would never cut his hand on any knife, because he'd never be doing the dishes.

    We need to gossip about RHONY.

  2. OH GIRL!!! You crack me up!!! Thanks for this good laugh!! As bad as it all was at the time, you do a great job looking back on it with an ounce (or two) of humor!! Thanks for explaining in your reply to me and here what you do. I kind of thought it was something along those lines! =)

  3. Not sure that counted as a luncheon! More like a manipulative " I will show you you are smarter than a cat" show. Amazing. Keep the stories comin! You're great!

  4. Now that is a humdinger of a Tuesday. Tuesday's are my least favorite day of the week too. I have to do a check run on Tuesday's and it is always borderline hysteria. Your luncheon sounds unbelievable! And I learned that housing cures homelessness. Mystery solved. Poor James had to seek medical help twice in one day. I hope today. Is hospital free.

  5. Hey, I love reading your long posts. So forget about the "rules'.

    Now as far as your tuesday. That just sounds horrid. I can't really imagine having to deal with one of those things in a day, let alone all in one day. That work luncheon, I'm still chuckling about it.

    Hope your tuesdays stop being so mean to you & I hope your hubby's finger & cheek feel better.

    P.S. My tuesdays are never quite as bad, but it always seem to be that on tuesdays I think it's almost the weekend. Then remember there are 3 more days to go.

  6. Well, good, because I love you back. :-)

    P.S. I really wish there was a video of the gospel choir on the balcony!

  7. 1st: PSH! Write as long as you want! It's YOUR BLOG! And writers blog...sooo, yeah. GO for it. I love reading your blogs.
    2nd: OUCH! OMG. Poor both of you! What a day. :(

  8. oh my oh my, poor tuesday! when it rains, it pours?! you guys should probably go out on a nice date this weekend:-) xoxo

  9. Wow that WAS a long post, lol, but then again, if I'd had that kind of day, I'd probably have written an epic post about it too!

  10. I quite enjoyed your novel! Keep 'em coming! I totally don't mind reading longer posts!

  11. If I could only bring 10 blogs with me to a desert island, yours would be one of them.

  12. I can't believe I just read all of that. you are officially my favorite person ever.


Talk to me! If your email is linked to your account, I'll respond to you via email. If not, I'll respond to you right here.