Girls - have you ever had one of those times that you could just feel it?
And by "it" I mean "Aunt Flo," "Your Little Friend," "Uncle Red."
You know what I mean. Don't make me say it.
I was having one of those days yesterday.
Our heat isn't working. Yes, the pilot light is on. Yes, I can hear the thermostat click when I turn the temperature up. No, there isn't any warm air coming out of the floor furnace.
Which, thanks to global warming, isn't so bad during the day, but at night, it's pretty chilly. And Jason hasn't been able to figure it out, and today (when he could've been looking at it) he's at the auction doing inventory.
And I'm one of those "I want this fixed now!" types, and it isn't. And when I get up in the mornings, it's cold, making it harder for both AM and me to get going.
(And what's funny about this, is that last Wednesday when I came home, it had apparently gotten so cold in the house that the heat kicked on all by itself, putting that awful burned-dust smell throughout the house. And now, when Jason has vacuumed the thing out, it won't work.)
After I saw last week's tour picture, I took matters into my own hands and ordered a set of two bras from QVC.
Now, I've been ordering from QVC for a long time. Even though they tell you 7-10 days, I usually get stuff in about 5.
Not this time.
It took a whole week, and I was pretty frustrated with the tracking information that told me my stuff sat in Nashville for three days. You know, that's only four hours away. I could've driven up on Saturday and picked them up.
That way, I would've known a week ago that THEY DIDN'T FIT.
I'm sending them back today for a different size. It isn't that I mind so much the expense of return shipping, and I've notified QVC that they're coming back and what I want in return. It's just the thought of waiting another week or two to get them that's driving me up the wall!
Anna Marie joined the children's choir at the local First Baptist. The pastor's son sits at her table at school, and she saw him get on the "choir bus" every Tuesday and wanted to go, so she's going.
When I went to go pick her up, practice was over and they were playing on the playground. When the teacher opened the gate, she ran (barefoot) down the sidewalk, crying that she didn't want to leave Brady. (I did tell her that if she acted up, she wouldn't come back next week). I finally got her out of there, and took her to find a pair of black Mary Janes. She was supposed to be a pirate today, and she needed a pair anyway.
There are only a couple of stores in our town that sell kids shoes, and neither had any in her size! It was so frustrating, especially when she kept saying she just wanted tennis shoes, and I pointed out to her that she already has two pair.
After an hour of this, I was pretty exhausted.
In the spirit of the season, we were going to have a harvest party in our class at church last night. I got the Veggie Tales video "Where's God When I'm Scared?" from the library. Except I then remembered that the VCR in the TV in that room doesn't work, and in fact still has a tape stuck in it.
So, I went to Dollar General, and they had a DVD copy for $4! Score!
But, the DVD player doesn't work either.
Jason brought his laptop for us to use, but it froze up and I had to restart.
We finally got to watch the movie.
I had purchased a pre-made cookie decorating kit, with pumpkin-shaped cookies, candy, and icing. Yay!
But then when we went to decorate them, I found out the icing was powdered and needed butter to be mixed in! Boo! Who ever heard of such a thing? We had no butter at church, so I ran to Wal-Mart. Which was of course a complete madhouse, being the night before Halloween and all.
We finally got to decorate the cookies.
Everything I tried to do last night was going horribly wrong, and Anna Marie kept coughing in my face and interrupting when I was trying to talk to someone, and by the time we headed home, I knew. I just knew.
It was on its way.
I could feel those hormones coursing through my veins, making me completely insane.
I wanted to rip someone's head off and spit down his or her windpipe. One of those moments - you know you've had one too.
And as I lay in bed last night, I had this song running through my head:
It's just one of them days, when I wanna be all alone…
Guess what my male friends called that song (by Monica) when I was in college?
The PMS song.
Guess my subconscious mind knows something's up too.