I could have predicted the outcome of my day just by the way i felt when i woke up.
There was no reason to feel it, but i woke up feeling cranky. Not like, crabby mad, but like there was something bugging me but i couldn't quite put my finger on it.
So, as I looked out my window, at the beautiful sun--shining in--i began to pray. For my kids, for our days, for this unusually odd feeling i was feeling.
I got he kids up and packed them all a special and healthy lunch. I was feeling productive. I had my makeup on, girls out the door, clothes together and gear ready to transfer to the car for my highly anticipated day with a friend.
I literally looked at the clock at about ten to 9 and consciously made myself wait to leave to bring Junior to preschool until 9 o'clock, exactly. Didn't want to be too early. But perfectly on time.
Nine o'clock came and i packed my gear, Junior begged to bring my Ipod, and i--well, i didn't agree--but he got it anyways. Nothing i could do--my hands were full.
So into the warming van we went.
And then i backed up.
And about half way down my driveway, i seemed to slant towards a snowdrift that had formed, unintentionally.
To which my van got hung up.
So i did a little maneuvering to try and get it unhung up.
To which i got more hungup.
To which my blood pressure began to rise--slightly.
I began to back up some more, in hopes to get out of this pickle.
I WAS IN MY DRIVEWAY FOR PETES SAKE!!!!
I was not getting stuck.
Not in my driveway--no less.
Turns out, i didn't make the rules.
As i gently shifted from reverse to drive and back i found that i would get a bit unstuck, only to get re-stuck.
So then i opened the door and pushed my foot on the ground--as if--to help myself get unstuck.
I was feeling frustrated at this point.
I watched the minutes tick away as i mildly went from drive to reverse, drive to reverse, drives to reverse....
Soon the shift became aggressive.
Like i slammed that sucker into drive and then rocked it into reverse.
As if to punish my van for betraying me.
Almost instantly my frustration turned to total and complete rage.
I may have passed out--i can't remember.
I only remember letting out loud, guttural, screams as i kicked my van and screamed "oh, no you won't!'
"Whyyyyyyy! Come ON!! Not today...."
I looked around at the empty neighborhood through my blurred vision and spotted a neighbors husbands truck in the driveway.
As i got out my phone to text her, it was then, that i realized my fingers were possibly dead--as i had no gloves on and had been out in the -41 wind chill kicking my van and willing it to move for the past 20 minutes.
So instead, i called her.
And left a message.
In which i am pretty sure my opening line for her was a yell.
Like, "I'm stuck in my stupid driveway, in my stupid van, in the stupid cold, because we live in a stupid state...."
It wasn't until i hung up after asking if her hubby was home to help me--that i realized i possibly assaulted her via telephone message. Unintentionally.
(Sorry, Jen-clearly the problem is me!)
I got back into my van--where my son was happily playing that darn ipod and i screamed and cursed the day--to which he never even looked up.
I hit the gas a few more times--hard --you know--just to ensure i was really stuck. Like, permanently.
And then i just stood out in the snow......and yelled.
Like, from the depths of my soul--yelled.
Finally i decided that i was going to get Jeromy's truck out of the garage and just blow by this stinkin van, get Junior to school and likely never return. Ever again.
As i maneuvered the truck--in a very Austin Powers like way-- out of the garage and from rear facing to front, i drove about a foot from the vans bumper and got out.
I surveyed the situation.
I envisioned the sheer pleasure it would bring me to just blow through the van--with the truck. The satisfaction it would bring me at this point is unmeasurable.
I grabbed Junior and transferred all my crap from the van to the truck. And then I sat there.
Pondering this dumb idea.
I stared at the van and it stared back at me.
I had hoped to just squeeze by it but when it all come together there was NO way i could get through with out sideswiping them both and likely getting stuck again.
Can you imagine? I would have literally thrown myself off the roof at that point.
I stood out in the arctic weather and yelled.
Like fighting for my life--yell.
Like (fist to sky) "Whhyyyyyyy meeeeeee? Pleeeeeeease, help me, soooomeone!!""
So which only the wind answered back.
In a snide whisper.
I swear i heard that.
At this point i honestly didn't know if i was gong to cry, scream, or have a heart attack.
The pain in my hands was so intense that i couldn't even think.
So finally i decided to grab a shovel and try to shovel my way out.
The words and thoughts that went through my head as i dug ...and dug... and dug.... my van out of the snowdrift--in my driveway--could make a sailor blush.
But i only thought em.
Sooooo, settle down already.
I let out a few more desperate cries as i finally cleared the snow and got back into the van to start it back up and do this dog and pony show, once again.
I looked forward at Junior, happily playing games on the ipod in the truck.
And then, I slammed the pedal to the floor--unable to hide my rage at the situation--and as my wheels smoked and spun..... the van sat still.
My blood boiled as i cranked that baby into reverse and did about 100mph as i watched the smoke bellow from my wheels.
i'm not proud here.
Its like i could actually hear Jeromy say slowly, "just give it a little gas."
But no way. Not today--if i was going down--i was going to go down in flames.
If i was seriously going to get stuck--in my driveway--i was going to bury these stinkin' tires to China.
Ya feel me.
At the last moment, i turned my wheel the opposite way--one last time--and i yelled out "Please, just help me!!"
And suddenly the van grabbed hold of the snow and i backed out of the driveway-- like a bat outta hell.
And i just threw the van into park in the middle of the road--daring anyone to see it.
I got out of the van, went to the truck, told Junior to "get out, lets go" and made my way back to the van--arms full of stuff, fingers broken, thighs freezing and pits sweating.
Junior buckled in, i left that truck right in the middle of the driveway and pulled away.
Trying desperately to calm my heart rate.
I called Jeromy--hoping he would answer so i could scream at him for nothing and blame him for everything that he had nothing to do with.
"why didn't you put up a snowfence in November!!! Do you love no one!?......Waaaaa, crab, sigh, moan, wail....."
He just laughed.
I threw in some choice words to make my point and then ended with "I'm sorry. I know its not your fault, and i may have left a borderline threatening message on our neighbors answering machine, soooooo...."
As least i was out.
We got to Juniors school--45 minutes late.
And then he went to get out and i noticed his school bag, and lunch, weren't in the van.
We must have transferred them to the truck--in my fit of rage--and then i forgot as i drove away.....
.....in a fit of rage.
"oh, come on!!" I said to my poor baby, who already felt bad, as i continued to remind him about the importance of being responsible.
We walked into school, and i laid it all out to the teacher helper, who only responded with silence....
To which my blood pressure began to increase.
I just wanted to get to my friends. I just wanted to get us a coffee and visit.
I had been looking forward to this for a week.
And now i had to figure out how to get Junior lunch.
My mom suggested SA so i ran there, grabbed him a gross ham sandwich, chips and a cheese stick.
And i flew back to school. Tried to over explain the lunch situation to the teacher helper---who only responded in silence--and then off i was.
To get a coffee.
At least i had this free drink on my rewards card.
After i ordered. I got stuck in the drive thru. Thanks to the 76 inches of ice.
But thankfully the huge, overconfident, truck behind me didn't seem one bit concerned as he sat on my tail and watched as i spun--uncontrollably--in place.
When i finally made it to the window. i was angry. I wanted to slap the man when the window opened. Just because "Can anyone put flipping sand down--ANYWHERE?!?Its not like we live in California. Do your JOB!!"
Truly, i wanted to beat him to the very grips of life. It brought me relief.
Again--i think the problem is my own.
I gave him my card and he informed me that my reward "wasn't for a drink, but for an added "flavor shot" in a drink."
*Insert Kill Bill music here*
"Ahh, i see. Great. Thank you--LIKE WHO THE HECK WOULD ASK FOR A DISGUSTING *EXTRA* SHOT OF RASPBERRY? COME ON-- YOU GUYS ARE THE W-O-R-S-T!!! GUH--ROSS!!"
I said--as he pretended not to hear me at all.
I got the drinks anyways--obviously.
And as i drove away, i noticed they didn't even give me the BEAN on my mocha's!!!!!!!!!
It may have been my breaking point, i don't know. I only remember seeing red--my head literally opened up and fire came out of my skull!
Fast forward to Kwik trip--where i stopped to get donuts for my friend.
I basically got into a fist fight with the poor lady about the freshness of the donuts--gave her the finger--and left.
Okay, i didn't give her the finger--but that thought had crossed my mind about a trillion times in the last hour.
I arrived at my beautiful friends house, coffee in hand. I looked at the clock, only to realized that it was only 10:19 am.
What a morning.
I apologized about the bean sitch--told her my long, sad and drawn out story--and went back to the car for the donuts.
As i grabbed the donuts and my other stuff i went back in. Got to the table. And saw that she had placed two chocolate covered expresso beans--of her own--onto the lid of my coffee.
And it melted my frozen little heart, people.
My vision slowly returned.
My pulse began to slow.
And love--once again--began to fill my heart.
She's the BEST.
And winter is the WORST.
How was your morning?
Ya know what? Forget it--i don't even wanna know.