Cosmic sitcom

I’ve been convinced for some time that my life is someone else’s cosmic sitcom.  Not exactly “The Truman Show,” but I’ve always had the feeling someone must be getting their jollies out of my misadventures.

Let’s talk about Tuesday:  Family picture day at our local Sears.  First appointment of the day at 10.  We show up early.  It’s the only store that isn’t open before 10.  Okay, armed with a latte from the Starbucks next-door, when the doors open, we go in.  Darling Bebe is feeling shy.  We’re in a room with scary equipment and she is not performing.  Not. A. Smile.  The photographer barking at her and shaking a toy does not help.  She wants nothing to do with this.  Sears wants nothing to do with us.  One of their two cameras is broken and they are double-booked.  They tell us, “You are done.”

“But we don’t have a family picture.”

“We don’t have any more time for you.”

An obligatory look at the proofs shows us there’s not a single shot where we’re all looking the same direction, much less smiling.  So I set aside my long-held belief that Christmas cards should have the whole family in the photo, not just the kids and look at a single shot of DB.

“Can you crop that?”

“That will be an additional $9.99.  It’s considered an enhancement.”

We are done.  We reschedule another appointment – which will mean messing with three people’s routines – and leave.  Drop DB off at daycare and go to my office.

My desk is covered with mouse turds.  They are everywhere.  F***.

Having cleaned up said mouse turds, I reach into the rolling briefcase to dock the laptop.  No laptop. I left it in the main office on Friday – what was supposed to be a half-day off, but devolved as all my Fridays do – and ended up being a work-late day.  My laptop is 40 miles away.  F***.

With significant snow expected overnight, there’s no other option but to drive there to get the damn laptop.  I’m low on gas.  En route, I jump off the interstate at an exit where I know a gas station is off the ramp.  They are out of gas. Every pump is blocked off.  F***.

At this point, my better judgment said it was time to go home, put on jammies and go to sleep.  No such luck.

But I know somewhere out there, someone is laughing their ass off at me.

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One Response to “Cosmic sitcom”

  1. Kim Says:

    Wow, whenever I think I’m having a bad day/week/month, I just come here because you always seem to top me. Mouse turds?! Seriously? UGH!

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