Do you ever have days where nothing seems to go right, but everything is moving so fast, you don’t have time to stop and redirect? I had one of those days yesterday, so I am going to take the opportunity to run through my day backward explaining what happened and how what I could have done things differently.
I am going to start simple. Instead of being in a rush to give my dinner order at that restaurant, I should have taken my time, ordered a baked potato and veggies, instead of that very delicious, but very gut busting waffle.
Wow! This is easy. Ok…next. Instead of a crazy, fart laden, express train to Hell, filled with screaming escaped zoo monkeys, what I should have done is say, “no!” to extra children riding in my van. Then I could have enjoyed a nice quiet ride home, from Child #1’s baseball game, while my boys watched a video and slowly drifted off to sleep, after stopping for a quaint picnic with just us.
The day sounds better already. Instead of going to the doctor, for what is clearly some form of allergy/stress related hives, I should have used that time to take my puppy dogs to the bathroom an extra time. Then I wouldn’t have come home to a kitchen lake of piss with a chain of turd islands.
My final sequence of events was where most of my mistakes happened, sending my whole day in to a shit spiral.
I could change so many things, such as instead of being poor and having no dental insurance, being forced to see the dentist at the Health Services clinic, where my only option is to extract the rotten tooth with the exposed root. I would still have my fantastic dental plan, and Dr. S. Could have fixed my tooth good as new. Then maybe I wouldn’t have had the chance to tell the dental assistant that the pictures of tooth roots on the wall looked like giant vaginas. I would have sat quietly in my chair and kept that thought to myself.
Instead of politely listening to the dentist as she, showed me pictures and spoke to me like I was an ignorant hillbilly, I would have asked her to shut her face and pull my damn tooth. Instead, I get to sit around enjoying the mind numbing pain shooting through my jaw for another week.
Last, but certainly not least, I should have used my morning quiet time a little more productively. As I sat drinking coffee, I could have done housework, planned my tasks for the day, decided on a dinner menu. Instead I sat and asked my self questions:
What is the proper etiquette for complementing a sweet mullet?
Should you say something, or just give the approving head nod?
Do you call it a mullet or is it the haircut whose name must never be spoken?
How does one ask their stylist for a mullet?
You get the point. Here’s to another productive day!