I think I’m having PTSD

Yesterday was one of those days where absolutely nothing went right. I called a friend and my cousin to get some assurance that the blue funk I was experiencing from the night before was probably normal. I thought I’d unwind with a nice motorcycle ride to get my mind off the night before. I went out to start my truck to move it out of the driveway so I could get the motorcycle out of the garage only to turn the key and have it do….nothing. I know I didn’t leave a light on, but who knows? I was so upset when I came home from work the night before that anything is possible. Of course, Monica was at work so I called AAA which elicited the arrival of one of the most hideous men I’ve ever seen. Bad hair, really bad teeth, dark glasses, prison tattoos. All I could think about was “meth mouth.” Plus, he couldn’t give me a straight answer about anything. He then told me that my battery–the one I’ve had for 5 years– was too small. Being Sunday, there was no place open that could put a new battery in for me so I’m hoping I can get the truck started this morning.

Then, when I was in my truck, I noticed that my leak-proof water bottle had leaked all over the seat and onto a book one of my co-workers insisted on lending me. Of course, the book was ruined so I had to go online and order a new copy to give him because I can’t give him a water-logged wrinkled book. The bad thing is that I didn’t want the book in the first place, but I took it and left it in the car. Now I have to buy the damn thing.

I finally did get the motorcycle out and the good thing I did yesterday was ride up to the top of Mt. Ashland and explore some new roads. I came back and took the dogs for a walk and when I came back I found that I’d left the garage door to the house open which meant that there was a 90% chance that Monica’s cat got out. Sure as hell, I couldn’t find her in the house so I was cussing about my stupidity and how I was going to get in trouble with Monica because she constantly has to remind me to shut the confounded door. I had to find that cat before she got home. Fortunately, I found her in the neighbor’s yard. She doesn’t get out enough to wander far. The dogs were probably wondering why I was freaking out on them. I secured all the animals, went upstairs and got out my Maker’s Mark. Don’t worry. I’m NOT an alcoholic.

Finally, I thought I’d make my chocolate chip cookies and as I was getting my supplies a bowl fell from the cupboard, landed on my glass of Maker’s Mark and shattered the glass. I had to clean that all up AND get myself a new glass of bourbon. Eventually, I get to the point where my ingredients are coming together in the Kitchen Aid–wow, it’s so cool not to have to stir anything–when I drop the ENTIRE egg into the batter…crunch, crunch, well blended pieces of brown egg are nicely distributed throughout my batter. By this time, Monica had come home and rescued me and my batter since I hadn’t quite pulverized the pieces into oblivion.

Somehow, the cookies turned out really good. And, I still fear I’m going to get a lecture about the cat so I’m preparing myself now.

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