Have you ever had a kick the dog day? That’s what my grandparents used to say. When your day is so bad and you are so mad that you have fussed and moaned and everything else except kick the dog. Today has felt like that and I even came real close to kicking the dog. I mean I didn’t, but that dog kind of deserved it. He ATE a very nice dress. This was not off the clearance rack or from Target. It was Crosby by Mollie Burch. Just heartbreaking. It was fast, too. I was in the bathroom for Pete’s sake. Within minutes he had pulled it off the arm of the daybed that is at the foot of my bed by the hanger and shredded one sleeve while leaving holes all over the rest of it. Is nothing sacred?!? He knew it was bad. It’s not every day that mama yells and gets on to him. I’m the pushover.
So that kind of steered my day into cranky. Why is it that things tend to snowball? If you are irritated about one thing, the rest just piles on. There are days when my phone never rings, but give me a day where I don’t want to talk to anyone and they all call. Back to back. And repeatedly. You can’t get anything done. I don’t even like to talk on the phone to begin with. I hate it, actually. I have always been that way. I think it’s because what is going on right next to me is not the same as what is going on on the other end of the line. I get distracted by dogs, kids, laundry, dishes, etc. It might have been better when I was a teenager and I had to sit by the phone. We didn’t have cordless phones. We had a very fancy two line house so we all had gigantic phones on our nightstands with lots of buttons. And an intercom. Something about lying in my bed with my feet up the headboard chatting seems better.
Don’t ask me to order food by phone either. I refuse. I will starve instead. Truly. It’s one of my quirks. Jim thinks it’s ridiculous. I always have to remind him that I was this way when he met me. I don’t like to call and make appointments either. Give me a website for that. Or an app. Thankful for technology on that one. I love a doctor’s office that will let you make an appointment online.
Since we have phones that go everywhere with us, do you take yours to the bathroom? I might have mine with me, but I am sure not talking on it.
I don’t need you with me and I sure don’t want to be with you on the potty. I am always stunned in public restrooms with people on the phone in the stall next door. How are they talking and hovering and staying hygienic? That is just a mistake waiting to happen. Know that if the phone ends up in the water, I am not getting it. That phone is dead to me.
How on earth did I get onto phones? It’s like if you give a mouse a cookie. If you give Emily a platform…