Really Bad Mood
I woke up in a REALLY BAD MOOD today. I don't know why. I got enough sleep. The room was delightfully cool. My daughter did not venture into my bedroom in the middle of the night demanding that I move over, give her some pillows and no she didn't want covers. I'd gotten laid. It was payday yesterday. It was "casual day" at the office today so I could wear chinos and loafers. My cleaning lady was coming. All should have been right with my world. But no.
I woke up growling, moved on to barking, and graduated to shrill.
I called Chuck on his cell phone to find out why both of the shirts I wanted to wear were in the hamper and hadn't gone to the laundry with the rest of the shirts so that they'd be clean, pressed, and hanging in my closet. Like there was anything he could do from 35 miles away from home and it wasn't like I didn't have plenty of other freshly-laundered shirts hanging in the closet.
The cleaning lady put the perfectly clean, brand spankin' new outfit I laid out for Zoe in the washer. With the GapKids tags still on them. Zoe had a fit because she wanted to wear the new outfit with the matching hat to school today. I showed the hat to the cleaning lady. I asked where the shirt that looked like the hat was. She didn't have a clue. I finally opened the washer and there it was. Then I had to argue with my daughter over what she was going to wear.
The morning was going downhill at an astronomically rapid rate.
My car was in the shop for two days. (BTW: this is exactly what my car looks like. It's red and it rocks.) I got a loaner from the dealer but mine is a turbo and the loaner wasn't and it had no guts. Mine has a leather interior. This one had cloth--velour to be specific and your butt doesn't glide off velour when you're trying to get out of the car in a hurry. Mine has temperature-specific climate control. This one doesn't. And the service was not covered under the warranty. And the service was going to be $550. And I wanted my car back last night and it wasn't ready. For the gross inconvenience, and for the fact that they had to order a part (that is covered under the warranty) and I have to go back to the dealership next week the guy knocked $55 off my service.
I left the office at 2 today. I couldn't be there anymore. I needed some peace and quiet and time to myself.
I didn't want 150 whiners telling me that the copier is jammed, the first stall in the 8th floor ladies restroom is not flushing, and that their Dictaphones don't work.
I'm trying to chill out before my family makes their way back into my life for what I can only hope will be a cooler weekend than last.
Chuck and I watched Bruce TV on VH1 last night. I started feeling really old until old Bruce and the E Street Band came on stage. Deb's observations made me laugh as Chuck and I shared some of the same:
Little Steven and that schmata on his head. His hair was quite short for his role in the Soprano's. I told Chuck I bet that his hair is really short underneath and that the hair is glued to the do-rag.
Patty, skanky Patty. Chuck called her the Linda McCartney of the E-Street Band. Since when does she play guitar? I told Chuck I bet that it's either not plugged in, either that or the volume is turned way the hell down.
Clarence Clemmens rocks!
They all looked really old.
We must be old.
My first concert was the Doors at Madison Square Garden when I was 7. My dad was in the music business for my formative years and I've been to more concerts than I can even think to recall but haven't been to one in years.
I want to go see Bruce when he comes to LA.
Until next time. . .