After a blissful 4.5 hours of sleep last night, my
When my actual alarm went off at 4:30 am, I was in the midst of a panic attack, but I made a good try at getting up and ready for work. Even managed to take the dog out, feed all the fur babies, and start the car. 10 minutes later I was huddled on the stairs unable to move. So much for work. I finally managed to get upstairs and wake Hubby who helped calm me down. But work was out for a few hours. I called the boss, and cuddled the baby (who was woken by my freak out).
2 hours later I woke up with, "Hubby! I left the car on!" Yup. For 3 hours. Let's just say it was nice and toasty for the drive to work. Where I forgot I had my sunglasses on because normally I drive to work in the dark, so I had to run back to the car to get my normal glasses.
An hour and a half of work later, I discovered that last weeks intestinal pyrotechnics were not merely a fluke. No more milk for me. But as I was on the phone with a customer at the time, I had to put her on hold, get my boss to grab the line, and run like the wind for the toilet. I feel bad for the others in there...
My boss sat in my chair apparently, shook her head, and had to get up. It has now been dubbed "the fart chair." And it's not my usual. Sorry person who normally sits there :-(
So, screw work, I went back home. Swigged some pepto, and slept a couple more hours.
This Monday shit is for the birds.
Sadly, it's MY Tuesday. Someone forgot to tell the Powers That Be that.
Next time the day starts like that I'm just calling out for the day and declaring Mulligan.