Some days are just like this:
Brian never set his alarm Sunday night, so he was running late. I need a cattle prodder for him in the morning. Finally get everyone out the door. Come home to start school and Alyssa announces the sunroom is leaking (40 mile an hour winds and driving rain caused the window channel to overflow). Get that all cleaned up and start school. I had such a busy weekend, I never got any lesson plans done or anything. Start with our Bible lesson. By the end Alyssa is in tears. “I can’t do all this work. I have too much to do and a piano lesson today and I still have to do theory.” After ½ hour, finally get her calmed and back to work. Go to get the other two from school. Get blocked in by other cars at Brian’s school and can’t get out for several minutes. Time ticking away. Don’t want them to charge me for after school care because I’m so late getting Jonalyn. Finally get out of there. I’m tooling along, but then get stuck waiting for a train. A long one. The gates rise. Whoopie! But I’m behind a driver who thinks the speed limit is much lower than it actually is. It’s a two lane road and I can’t pass. Finally get to Jonalyn’s school nearly ten minutes later than usual. I’m wearing clogs and I hurry into the building to get her. My foot catches on the metal door threshold. I go splaying, flat on my face. My chin bounces off the concrete floor (that’s what it felt like, anyway). Woof. Every molecule of air spews from my lungs, sending all the teachers crowded in the office out to see if I’m still alive. I get up and assure them I’m fine. I’m mortified enough. End up with scrapes on both knees which are now turning pretty colors, a cut on my left hand – I think from the buckle on my watch band, a bruised chin and bruised ribs. Dinner goes well. It’s a new recipe which everyone likes except Brian. He complains up and down about it. Doug tells me to look over Brian’s grammar homework. What can I say? When I try to help him with it, well, you know the rest. Fall into bed (no, not really because I’m too sore) exhausted. Cat keeps scratching at the door to be let in, but I let Doug handle it. There’s no way I’m getting out of bed.
This is worse than any of the days I’ve created for my main character in the book I’m editing. And the poor soul had some really bad days 🙂