It’s Monday, but not so much with the happy. I would determine it more to be a crappy Monday. Nothing’s really wrong, I’m just tired and not ready to be at work again for the week. It’s all my fault, too. I hate it when that happens.
The weekend was really fun: we had a barbecue over at OF’s (Occidental Fiance's) house, and got most of the furniture put back now that the hardwood floors have cured. The floors look amazing! The food was great, company was fun, everyone had a great time. OC had a friend over, and they played in the yard and wading pool. It was a beautiful weekend weather-wise, too. Hot, but not terribly hot if you had some shade. Sunday was relaxing, as we recovered from overindulging in good microbrews and mojitos the night before. OF gardened, while I read, watched OC play in the pool, and did laundry.
We got home late last night to a stuffy apartment full of two unhappy persian cats, with all our things yet to haul into the house, OC still needing a bath, and with many things needing to be readied for the start of the week. As we pulled into the apartment, I was thinking of all that I needed to do to to get ready for the next day, when OC accidentally spilled the jar containing the roses, and the water, that OF had cut for me. She held them all the way home, and spilled them in the parking area of our apartment. I wasn’t mad at her, just upset that it happened, because it was one more thing to contend with before I could collapse into bed. I explained this to her, so she would know why I was upset. I cleaned up the water, and I even cried about it a little.
I thought to myself how it was a good thing the glass jar didn’t break and OC wasn’t hurt, and that it was only water that spilled, and not something that would stain or be sticky like grape kool aid. I tend to be one who thinks, “Well, it could be worse!” at times like these. I don't know why I do this, it just comes to me. It may be a little Pollyanna-ish, but thinking this way helps me put a given situation into perspective. Right away, I begin to be thankful for what didn't go wrong, but could've. I think this is a good thing, but it doesn’t always prevent me from crying about it. There I was, rose petals and water all over the back seat and floor, soaking up the water with the towel, crying, all the while saying to myself, “This is so stupid that I’m crying, but I didn’t need the dang roses to spill all over the car’s seat!” What a sight. Thank goodness the neighbors weren’t home. Sometimes you need to cry over spilt water, because it does suck.
Wait! I think I can blame someone else after all: the pizza place, which failed to deliver our pizza when they said they would, and when we called they had somehow thought we were coming to pick it up. Finally, an hour and a half later, we were finally eating a pizza which we were not charged for because of the wait. It was quite tasty. We absolutely scarfed it. I was glad to be with OF that much longer, but I tend to stress out when I get home late on Sunday evening because I need to do my thing to get ready for the week.
And now it’s Monday; we made it to work and school just fine and on time, and all is (mostly) well. I’ve got a bunch of things to get caught up on this week, but it’s relatively under control. Or, it will be after I have a few evenings to catch up.