I'm pretty anal about schedules and time tables. Seriously. I get up at 6:04 b/c the coffee pot goes off at 6 and it takes 4 minutes to brew. I do email and FaceBook while sipping and catch the weather at 6:15, then get the boys up at 6:20 to be fed, dressed and out the door by 7:20. I'm a machine! But, some times, things don't go as planned. And I hate that. Not in control is something I just don't do.
Today I had to be at the studio for work around 8:30. That means getting myself ready for something other than a workout (I'm pretty sure showing up in a sweaty sports bra and ripped up boxer shorts would not be appropriate). I do the math and decide I need to get up 12 minutes earlier than usual. That was my first mistake. Due to my reoccurring insomnia, I hit the snooze button. DAMN YOU SNOOZE!! Why do we even have that? Just get your ass up when you are supposed to. I don't understand why someone also decided that 9 minutes is a good snooze time and all the alarm makers said, "yes, this is good" and went with it. So, I get up and run to the coffee pot, fill up, catch up by looking online for the weather - ok, interjecting here - I know it has been 150 degrees and no rain for 6 months now, but I keep waiting for that surprise forecast of 65 and rain, but I live in TX not Seattle.
I take the world's fastest shower and am out by 6:25. Ok, not bad. I head up to get the boys and get them settled with some chocolate milk and crappy Japanamation cartoons. Then, I make the mistake of asking, "what do you want for breakfast". I must have looked like a short order cook because they asked for 10 different items and I'm pretty sure steak was one of them. Hell no! Reheated pancakes it is. Although, I thought about cooking the giant spread, just to see how fast I could do it, but figured sending them to school with food poisoning wasn't a good idea.
By now it's only 7:05, so I'm kicking ass! But, I forgot about me. Crap. My hair is almost dried and I don't have straight hair. It looks like Jon Bon Jovi's hair back in the livin' on a prayer years. I need some serious makeup for the bags under my eyes and I have no clue what I'm wearing. It really sucks that hair bands are no longer in style. That would have helped a lot. So, I manage to smooth out my crimped fro, find something that isn't covered in cat hair in the back of my closet and put on my makeup so fast I poked myself in the eye with the mascara wand 3 times. Now I have black streaks running down my cheek and my eye is all red from the injury.
Now it's 7:17 and I have to get Hud's shoes on. Oh. My. God. Those f*ing shoes!!!! Putting tennis shoes on this child is like putting a condom on a noodle. It takes 10 attempts and by the end he's crying and I'm sweating. I'm seriously considering spraying his feet with that truck bedliner stuff.
But, by 7:26 everyone is ready to go. And in walks Nick from the gym. Of course. Why does he always show up at the end. He so graciously offers to walk the kids to school so I can finish my coffee, which is now cold and the cream is pooling on the top of it. Gross. Screw it. I'm leaving.
Bad idea. It took me an hour and a half (AN HOUR AND A HALF) to drive what normally would take 20 minutes!!!! There was no wreck. No dead animals. No jets landing on the tollway. Just a bunch of assholes driving like idiots. You would think we were stuck in a 3rd world country with elephants and donkeys sharing the road with us. Well, there were asses......
I make it into the studio 5 minutes before our webcasts starts and by that time I was done. Someone suggested mimosas would have been a good idea. I agree. Tomorrow I get to do it all over again. Yay. Not.
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