There were several things that conspired to make my day horrible and rotten but the biggest one was slipping and falling (hard) on the floor in our foyer. I slipped on and - horror of horrors! - landed in, a rather large puddle left by our poor dog who is starting to stand on the threshold of the great doggy beyond. The indignity of it all. When I was mopping it up and then shampooing the carpet (our thoughtful pup is no stationary urinator - no! - she walks around while she does it, leaving a large area to be cleaned by my lucky self), I was feeling entirely defeated (and sore from the fall) and I sobbed uncontrollably, racked in waves of self-pity. It was PAH-thetic and yet weirdly cathartic. It's good, every now and then to have one of those nobody-can-hear-me-no-holds-barred cries.
After I cleaned the floor and myself, I went about my day, feeling that things could only look up. I was wrong, Loyal Ones. I picked Jack up and brought him (and two of his friends) home for a playdate. I fed our pup and while she was eating, went to get some laundry done. (I know, I know, your BloomingtonGirl's life is very glam). I figured I would take the dog out right after she finished eating. (She has to be carried down the stairs to the yard and back up again...something I said I would NEVER do, but here I am, doing it). I heard a yell from the living room. Jack and his friends screaming "Gross!" She did it again, this time, in an arc over the carpet and across the best Oriental Carpet in the house. Suffice it to say that I did not give her a treat for her accomplishment. On the other hand, you can't really punish her because she is a million years old. If it weren't for Jack, she would have been voted off the island some time ago. I find myself dragging my feet because I don't want to face how grieved he will be. Why does anyone have pets or children? Why, Loyal Readers, why?
In other news, I cannot wait to climb into our huge soaking tub tonight and fill it up to the brim with hot water to soak out all of my ills. I am going to pour in large amounts of these wonderful lavender scented sea salts, sink in, put on my reading specs (ah! middle age) and read Othello. It is SO good. Iago is so skillfully written and so wonderfully evil and devoid of guilt. A juicy read indeed.
In other other news, Jack is out playing with the neighbor boys again tonight and Chris is working late. I love the quiet of an empty house. And I deserve it after this kind of day.
In other other news, there are only 24 tickets left for the Cincinnati reading of Over the Moon on Tuesday, May 11. Let me know if you want me to reserve one for you. I am very excited about the cast (they are stellar!) and having a pretty good sized audience for the talk back afterward. This reminds me that I need to book a hotel!
I'm off to clean up the kitchen, put my (not so) little (anymore) guy in bed, and book a nice hotel for Cincinnati.
I wish you a good night, Loyal Readers, and a good tomorrow, devoid of any unseemly accidents.