Emancipation of A Drama Queen

Today was and still is (since it’s only 3:32pm) an odd sort of days. It’s Mother’s Day (Holla! to all the mother’s!) today, May 11th, in the year of the rat, 2008.

So, how was your Mother’s Day? Good I hope. Hopefully all of the mother’s were showered with gifts, free time, ALONE TIME, pedicures, manicures, any-cures, chocolate, big breakfasts and lots of gift cards for clothing or massages.

Now that my pleasantries are out of the way, let’s begin with my own Mother’s Day events…

Sometime in the middle of the night, or the very wee hours of Mother’s Day, it began to rain. It rained, and rained, and rained some more. The rain did not stop until this afternoon. It was also incredibly windy. However, this was actually great news to us because we spent all day yesterday landscaping the retaining wall that follows the length of our house. We planted 9 shrubs, well actually, 2 lilac shrubs, 2 Alberta Spruce’s, 2 butterfly bushes and 3 burning bushes. They desperately needed rain, and lots of it since they were freshly dug out of the ground at a nursery and then planted in our yard. Needless to say, we welcomed the 12 hour downpour. The wind, not so much.

This is where it gets interesting. This is where you begin to get serious insight, as if you haven’t had enough already, into the mind of me.

Earlier in the week, hubs asked me what I wanted for breakfast on Mother’s Day. I didn’t ask for blueberry crepes or Belgian waffles. I didn’t ask for scrambled eggs and bacon to be served to me on a silver platter in bed. Rather, I chose my favorite, on-the-go, weekend breakfast that I like to enjoy once in a while… A Dunkin Donuts breakfast sandwich - sausage and egg, NO CHEESE, on a toasted bagel. Sadly, such as my life, I was looking forward to my breakfast of choice all week long. I love those damn DD breakfast sandwiches.

We awoke this morning and I begrudgingly told hubs that he didn’t have to go out in this weather to get my silly breakfast while secretly thinking to myself, ‘you better damn well say you are still going or I will shove pencils in your ears and then jam into your brain!’.

He said he would still go so tragedy was avoided.

He returns with my treasured breakfast in hand along with a yummy French vanilla coffee for me and 25 munchkins for my two evil munchkins to whom I gave birth to thus bestowing me my Mother’s Day rite of passage.

Then, I hear the words that no mother should ever, EVER have to hear on Mother’s Day when it involves the breakfast she has been looking forward to all week long…

“Oh no honey! They gave you a croissant instead of a bagel sandwich!” he yells from the other room.

For a second or two I really thought he was kidding, knowing how serious I am about food and it being exactly like I want it (think, Sally in When Harry Met Sally, only Sally would shoot the person who messed up her order). But, he was not kidding.

I was deflated. I was sad. My breakfast was ruined. He tried to offer up suggestions like…

“Take mine! You can take off the cheese!” he offered sweetly.

“No thanks, the cheese won’t come off, and you didn’t get sausage.” I rebutted like a 3-year old who was just told that his birthday cake didn’t turn out and that they would have brownies instead.

“Well, is the croissant that bad?” he asks.

“Yes, it really is. The toasted bagel makes the whole sandwich pleasurable. I don’t want the croissant.” I said back. “It’s ok, just nevermind. I know it’s not your fault.”

Then, I stood in the kitchen lost, confused and debating my next step.

I throw my shoes on and tell hubs emphatically, “They are NOT ruining my Mother’s Day breakfast! I am taking it back so they can fix my order dammit!”

“Are you serious?” he asked, completely baffled.

“Hell yes! I have been looking forward to this all week long, I am not settling!” I yelled back.

“Your a nut. Oh I went to the DD in the Heights.” he told me.

“Ok, be back soon.”

I decided to go to a different and much closer DD and exchange it because, really, are they going to know the difference? Probably not. So, I get around the corner from my house and I am stopped by a train, a really really slow train. This is not unusual. At that point I figured that this is merely a sign that I should go to the actual DD that hubs went to, for some reason. I flip a u-turn and head off to the other DD, 5 or 6 miles away, the one hubs said he went to.

I get there, finally, exchange my sandwich for the proper one and I’m on my way, without issue.

As I head back home, once again I come the tracks by my house, only I’m on the other side of them than I was before, and guess what, that train was STILL there, after 20+ minutes! Now, I can’t get home that way, and I’m only a block from my house. To make matters worse, I can’t take the other shortest route because when it rains heavily the road floods and they close it. So, now I have to take a long, LONG way home. All because of a seemingly retarded and forever long train. The words, “so close and yet so far” come to mind.

Are you following me or have I lost you yet? This is why I told you to grab your secret decoder rings. Duh.

Finally, I arrive home. Hubs had been freaking out because I was gone so long and he thought I had been in an accident. And, as luck would have it, I was wearing his rain coat and his cell phone was in the pocket, too. So, he had no way to reach me, or me to reach him. So, he said he plugged in our land line (we never use it anymore) just in case. I apologize and then went into my story of why I was gone so long.

He had a look of confusion on his face while I was telling him my saga but I forged on. He finally spoke up and asked me why I was taking those roads and how did I get stuck by the train because I should have been going another direction.

“Well, you told me that you went to the one in the Heights, so I had to go that way goober!” I said, with a severe “duh” tone to my voice.

“The one by Jewel you freak not South Heights!!!” he said condescendingly.

“OH!!!!! I was wondering why you would go all way to that other one when there are two DD’s right near us! But, that one you went to is NOT in the Heights ass!! It’s in Olympia Fields!” I yelled back, vindicated, sort of. “Don’t say ‘the one in the Heights’ bro, the one you went to is not in the Heights!”

I realize none of you know where I’m talking about. All you need to know is there are 2 DD’s very close to us. One is a good one and one is a bad one. The one hubs went to is on the border of Olympia Fields and Chicago Heights, but it is in Olympia Fields and that is the “good” one. So, when hubs said he went to the one in “the Heights” I immediately thought of the one my SIL loves, which is about 6 miles from our house. The other 2 are a mile or less from us.

The moral of the story is that my breakfast was almost ruined and I acted rashly to the situation and drove 12 miles out of my way to fix the situation when in reality, all I needed to do was drive a mile up the road, and back. I still, of course, blame DD for this entire mess because had the fucks in the drive through actually paid attention then all of this confusion and needless driving could have been avoided. Fuck you very much Dunkin Donuts.

In the end, it was worth all of the trouble because dayum I enjoyed that sandwich, more or less for the effort it took to get more than the actual taste. But, it was still very yummy.

Flash forward a few hours and my neighbor calls me and asks to borrow one of our cars. Um, okay??? She lost her key to her van and her husband was already at church with the kids and in 10 minutes the kids were going to put on their Mother’s Day concert so she had to get there. So, she ran over and grabbed my keys and headed off. How could I say no to a mother, on Mother’s Day when it would have meant missing a special concert in which her children were singing. Luckily, she also happens to be a very dear friend, too. It was just a request that I was not expecting.

Well, the day was already incredibly odd, so why not add another piece to the puzzle.

Flash forward a little while later and I’m doing laundry. I had just poured myself a nice, cold Dr. Pepper into my favorite cup and put the lid on and began to sip my carbonated pleasure. I drink my DP with 4 ice cubes in a plastic, thermal coffee mug because, yes, it really does taste better to me. And, the lid keeps it colder, carbonated longer and just that much sweeter as I sip it through the small little hole. My DP is just not worth it if I cannot fully enjoy it. Again, think Sally in WHMS. My quote in my sidebar is from that movie… very fitting.

Anyway, I set the mug on the dryer and began taking clothes out to fold them. Once that was done I began to throw the clean, wet clothes into the dryer. Just then, one of my tanks got wrapped around my mug and toppled it over and a lot of DP spilled onto the floor onto some clean, wet clothes that I had dropped in my fury to try and save the DP. Because, after all, the DP is the only thing that matters.

Now I had a small pile of clean clothes that I must rewash. But, the sad, sad and completely truthful part to this story is that I was way, way more pissed about the loss of about 1/2 of my DP than I was about having to rewash a few articles of clothing. Clothes can always be rewashed but once DP is lost, it’s lost. Gone. Forever.

Okay, in retrospect, after writing this out, I guess the day wasn’t that odd. I guess it just felt that way to me. So, this is actually an incredibly boring post, but, nonetheless, you still get a frightening glimpse inside of my high-maintenance head.

Your welcome.