Not a great start

Do you ever have those mornings where you just need to start over? Normally, they happen to me on Tuesdays. Or Thursdays. Both my least favorite days of the week. Sadly, today was one of those days. The fact that today is a Saturday only pours salt into an open wound. In fact I am now brewing a second pot of coffee so I can sit down with a new cup and try to start the day again.

Let me start at the beginning....I battle insomnia quite often....normally I can get to sleep but I typically wake up at 2, 3, or 4 and am wide awake until you know 6:30 or 7 when it is conveniently time to wake up to "start" the day. I awoke at 3:45 this morning as I typically do and proceeded to watch 4 episodes of Barefoot Contessa and an episode of The Soup, which I had recorded this week. I finally fell asleep around 7 only to have my alarm go off at 7:45. Strike One. Why, why must I awake at 7:45 on a Saturday? Because my dear, sweet, loving husband's father was coming to visit at 9 that morning. I was relieved to know it was only going to be his father so I could get away with just picking up the house and not deep cleaning it as I would do if his father and mother were coming.

I walked into the kitchen to do the dishes and was greeted by a little present from Lola. Strike Two. After cleaning that up and unloading and reloading the dishwasher, I turned to straighten up the breakfast nook. Only to find my loving husband with 4,000 brackets spread all over the place and 14 highlighters in hand. He was apparently nominated to grade the brackets for his office pool and apparently needed to do them right then. Strike Two and a Half- I thought to myself- ok, father in law won't mind. He will be proud to see all these brackets spread from one end of the table to the next in our new home.

After finishing my first cup of coffee, I told my loving husband I was going to try to shower before his Dad arrived. Showered, put make up on, dried hair, went to go get dressed. Only to find my pile of jeans on the floor were covered in dog pee. Strike Three. Hank got a cussin'. So there I am in my robe, yelling at Hank, scrubbing dog pee off the floor and trying to get the laundry started on the sanitary cycle when the doorbell rings. I race back to the bathroom and hear not one but two voices coming from the entryway. Ah, the unexpected 9 am mother in law drop by. Strike Four.

I quickly close the door to our bedroom, which is a complete disaster and race back to the bathroom to try to throw on some clothes and finish straightening my hair. I was also steaming with frustration at this point so I took my time straightening my hair so as not to explode into one million pieces. I emerged from the bedroom only to find the whole family had left. Gone to some car show or something. Left a house warming gift on the couch. Lisa not properly thanking unannounced mother in law for house warming gift= not a good thing. Strike Five.

So, I called my own mother seeking sympathy and was told to get a house keeper. Talk about making a girl feel good. And now I sit trying to restart my day with a new cup of coffee and the phone book in hand looking for the Merry Maids number.