Do you ever wake up in the morning and feel like something is just off in the universe? Like the air around you is just janky and wrong?
That happened to me on Saturday. I woke up in a weird mood I couldn't shake. I chalked it up to hormones (they get a lot of blame these days), but then things started to get wonkalicious. I have a map hanging on my wall that fell off over and over. The toilet in the guest bathroom broke. That toilet has never worked right, so I wasn't surprised, but it's never caused any major issues. James took the plunger to it to see what he could do, and he realized that somehow the plunger had holes in it.
Do I need to tell you where this is going? The guest bathroom flooded. And I mean flooded. I spent the rest of the morning washing every towel and rug we own. While I was doing that, James went to buy a new plunger. I kept up with the laundry and hung the blasted map back up for the third time. The cat could sense the world was falling apart and burrowed under the covers on our bed, which she absolutely never does unless someone comes over. James came home with the the new plunger and stuck it in the toilet while I sat in our bedroom cringing and praying. Within seconds, I heard him scream "OH NO OH NO OH NO!" The bathroom flooded. Again. It flooded all over the place. I heard the water pouring out of the toilet like Niagara Falls. Again. I heard the waves and tsunamis of toilet water splash against the freshly cleaned floor and walls. We took the last three dry towels and threw them on the floor.
The best and worst part? Sarah was on her way to visit for the first time. I was so excited to see her, but I suddenly realized I had to hurry and clean the master bathroom so I didn't scare her off with makeup caked on the bathroom counter and my grey hairs littering the floor. I cleaned, I showered the toilet water off myself, and then I laid down on the couch and prayed the day didn't continue down this path.
Sarah, her 9 month old daughter, and her mom showed up a little bit later. It was so amazing to meet her in person and I felt shy and giddy. At the risk of sounding like the Craigslist killer, I love meeting people from the internet. Blogging is like match.com for friendships; sometimes I meet my new best friend, and other times it's a disaster. I've known Sarah online for awhile now and we text each other every day. We've been wanting to meet forever, but she was pregnant and sick, and not long after she had her baby, I got pregnant and sick. She has been such a good friend to me and has virtually held my hand through this pregnancy. We sat around and played with the baby and chatted and had a great time. At least I had a great time. I hope she did, too. She texted me the next day, so that's a good sign, right? I wonder if she wants to see me again. But it was crazy and strange to see a baby in my house and know she's the age my baby will be a year from now. I had to shut those thoughts down before I had a heart attack.
We eventually went to grab dinner. We sat over soup and bread and talked about Elizabeth Smart and crazy kidnappers and the generally creepiness of the world and sufficiently scared ourselves silly. We walked outside in the dark to our cars, that were parked in a NICE and BUSY part of town and said our sad goodbyes. I was getting in my car to leave when Sarah's mom noticed the window of their car had been smashed and everything of value in their car had been stolen, including important baby things (who does that?!). I would be much more dramatic about all of this, but I don't want to steal Sarah's thunder if she decides to blog about it. We stood in the freezing cold and the police told us they wouldn't send anyone out, so I brought everyone back to my place to file a police report. We put the carseat and baby in my backseat so she didn't have to ride next to the smashed window. Cue another panic attack as I looked in my rearview mirror to see a carseat. At least I now know how to put a carseat in my backseat. A baby in my house and my car. It felt all too real and strange.
We got back to my house and worked on the police report, where we learned that you can report the following items stolen from your car: an empty beer can, cocaine, and a llama. But no GPS. You can report an empty beer can stolen, but not a GPS. Which makes sense, as the empty beer can is clearly a much more tragic loss. I'm just thankful she was wise enough leave her llama at home this time.
Sarah put the baby to bed in the pack n play in my bedroom, which she once again showed me how to set up. And hers happens to look exactly like the one James and I just bought, so obviously I wasn't having heart palpitations or anything about seeing a sleeping baby in a pack n play in my bedroom 2 months before giving birth.
The police report was filed, James taped up the window, and they were eventually on their way, all of us feeling a little bit traumatized. The cat wisely stayed burrowed through the whole ordeal, and I soon joined her.
So when can I be expecting you all for a visit?