OT: Bad Days and Car Keys

Yesterday was a bad day. Maybe not bad, per se, but hard tough tedious requiring a lot of brain power. I find that the days that require the most intellectual exercise are lumped into one of two categories: fantastic or completely exhausting. The deciding factor being the outcome of the issue requiring said brain power. Needless to say, the issue at hand from yesterday was not resolved by yesterday and I was therefore not left with that warm, fuzzy feeling better known as accomplishment.

As I crawled into bed last night, exhausted, at the ripe hour of 10:00pm (which is late for me I might add because I am, in fact, a grandma) I decided to do something I have not done in a while -- I prayed...if you can call it that.

Please, God, let tomorrow be easier than today. I haven't had an easy day in quite a while and I really think that I am beginning to deserve one. Amen.

Well-rested, I woke up this morning with a cheery outlook on my upcoming day (which was bound to be perfect because, you know, I had a talk with God and everything). I (a) made myself a tea to take on the car ride to the client, (b) hit no traffic and was due to arrive early at the client so I (c) swung by the Panera Bread to indulge in my favorite bagel (asiago!) to discover that this Panera was a drive-thru (score!) and (d) went about my day basking in the perfection it was bound to become.

This did not last very long.

Right off the bat, the exhausting issue from yesterday resurfaced. Even a fresh set of eyes, two coffees deep, could not solve this conundrum. After a good deal of wheel-spinning thinking, it's decided that this issue was no longer my issue and it was pushed back to the client to solve. The day continues to be more stressful than usual until it is time to head home.

I was driving down I-195, almost to my exit, 40 miles from the client, when I get a call from my co-worker. He's lost his keys. He thinks they're in my car from when we went to grab lunch earlier on.

Mother fucker. Darn.

I proceed to pull over into a parking lot to check my car for the missing keys. I check the floor. I check the center console. I check the door. I check the crack where things fall, never to be seen again (see post #1 for more info on said crack). Nothing.

I continue to drive the next 3 miles home, where I can more thoroughly look for the keys. This time I even check under the floor mats. No keys to be found. I call my co-worker to report the bad (good?) news. He is not happy. He is having a bad day, too.

By this time it's almost 7:30pm and I need to take Henry on a walk. We walk our usual route. He sniffs things, I talk on the phone, he goes potty. Upon the other kind of potty, I whip out a handy doggy bag. The same bag which I found crumpled on my entry table from the dog walker, earlier, and which I assumed to be a left-over and perfectly fit for good use.

Not so.

I open the bag and out flies a bee! A fat, little bee. The kind from Winnie the Pooh, which you would call "cute" if it weren't for their stingers. Apparently, this bag was used to catch the pesky bee and then forgotten about. More than likely, Henry tried to eat the bee and the dog walker plucked it from his mouth with the bag, thinking it was dead. Whatever the case, the bee is now pissed at me and is flying around my head while I try to swat it away/walk Henry/clean up after him. The bee eventually flees and we make it back home unscathed.

The moral of today is kind of a religious one, so if you're not into that you probably shouldn't read on.

I don't know if I believe in fate or karma or predestination or Darwin, but I do know that I believe in God. Which God? One God? These things I'm unsure of. I just know that I believe in "the big man upstairs", whoever he/she/it may be. I am fairly sure that today was a lesson. That lesson being that religion shouldn't be a cake we have on special occasions. It should be a bread we eat daily. I should probably do my best to remember that for next time before I go making any more special requests.