Thursday, March 28, 2013

Hump Day from Hell

Monday started with me sorting through 92 new emails with a steaming cup of high-caffeine pepperment tea.

I had ham and avocado on crackers for lunch and some kettle corn at 4pm.

Tuesday began with eating Honey Nut Cheerios in the car on the way to work, and having guacamole and tortilla chips at the office for breakfast. With coffee. While listening to Alanis Moissette.

Wednesday...
Started all normal and innocent.
Little did I know it was the Hump Day from HELL.


Yesterday was absolute crap.  Really.
I put a new recipe in the crockpot for sweet and sour chicken in the morning.
I was really excited for that chicken, being a big fan of sweet and sour myself, and wanting to know how to cook it at home, instead of venturing to a restaurant any time I get a hankering.
Plus I'm expanding my cooking repertoire in general.

The hubby and I got to work where a very busy, stressful, overwhelming day occurred.
I was tired and grumpy and we had a huge influx of work due to it being the end of the month.
I had to crack down on one of my team members, which I felt bad about, though it was necessary.
My cubicle-mate shattered the screen on her brand new phone.
I spilled hot coffee on myself and when I went to get more it was all gone.
My avocado at lunch was bruised and mostly rotten.

And then a Regional Operations Manager started haranging me on an issue.  I reviewed it and defended myself and my team, but it escalated quickly and my boss and her boss all got involved, and my anxiety flared up.
I was hoping to leave 10 minutes early to have time to taste the chicken before our realtor took us out house-hunting, but ended up leaving 20 minutes late due to the shitstorm.

We got home and the chicken smelled weird, so I re-seasoned it and had time for a bit of vodka before the realtor arrived and then we were off.

The first house was great and Eli was ready to make an offer, but for some reason it didn't rub me right. I got claustrophobic in the upstairs and the main level didn't even have a bathroom.
We would have had to knock down walls on 2 floor to adjust the house how we wanted, and for the expense and effort of that, it would not be worth it in my eyes.  It just vibed me wrong. Which was difficult to explain to Eli, who was stoked on the first really great house in our price range with a wonderful location (down the street from out office) we have seen.  So that wasn't fun.
The second house I liked, but the current owners decided NOT to leave during our showing because them and their 3 kids were sick. And it is disturbing to look through a house and critique it while the family that lives in it is there, hacking their germs at you. And Eli did not like that house.

The third one was horse property, which means a gorgeous yard, and it had a delightful wooden interior, but alas, the backyard fronted a major road and cars are loud when there are 6 lanes of them.
So we went home, empty-handed again, my buzz long-gone, exhausted from work, and just looking forward to some sweet and sour chicken.
I slaved over getting the sauce and rice ready and serving it up, creating a disaster in our kitchen (which is far too easy considering we have 2 feet by 2 feet of counter space). I served it up and Eli and I both took a bite.  He didn't say anything, but I fessed up that it was flat out awful.

I had consuled 3 recipes online, all with 5 star reviews, all pretty much the same.
Who gave this shit 5 stars??? Are they missing taste buds?! It was horrendous.
Eli, bless him, kept eating it, but I knew if I ate any more I would be stricken with...digestive issues... in the night.  And I was quesy from the 2 bites I took to begin with!!

I collapsed in bed with the covers pulled over my head.
Eli said "Not every food experiment will end well..." and microwaved us some frozen burritos for supper.
It was tragic.

He had to scrape the slop into the trash and take the trash OUT because of the rancid smell.
While I was doing the dishes to get rid of the rest, my necklace randomly fell off and INTO the garbage disposal, never to be seen again.  It was a thin chain and the sink ate it right up.

I chalk this all up to it being a full moon.

Eli and I went to bed, trying to end the hellian of a day. We were both so beyond tired we couldn't sleep for a while, but as soon as we got into our REM cycles, we were awoken by the wall shaking.
"What the hell is that?!" I wondered.  I could make out a thumping base that sounded like the heartbeat of a rhinocerous on crack.
I don't know if it was someone playing a keyboard with a backbeat, or just really bad techno, but it was LOUD. Our bed was vibrating a bit with it. I put my ear to the wall our bed rests against and sure enough, that crazy ass neighbor was the source.  It went on, and on, and on...
I called the after-hours security for our apartment complex and reported it.  We waited 20 minutes (ear plugs did nothing against this dumb beat) and it finally stopped.
But by then we were both so wide awake we never really got back into the sleep cycle, and had to split a 5 hour energy first thing this morning to get going.

Full moons are sure pretty to look at, but have I mentioned how much I hate their far-reaching effects on everything...?

I just got back from the taco stand in the bar's parking lot.
A few co-workers and I hit it up for an impromptu lunch.
Carne asada and chicken street tacos smothered in spicy sauce and all the fixings, shoved into your mouth while sitting on a stack of railroad ties, grease dripping down your hands on a sunny day in early spring kind of fixes everything...know what I mean?

No comments:

Post a Comment