Being Right in a Wrong Kind of Day
It was one of those days.
Y’know the ones. Where despite your best efforts to see the sun, the clouds shade you from the light, and everything right in your world goes wrong. Way-friggin’-wrong.
Every. Single. Thing. You. Touched. Right wasn’t even a word in my dictionary yesterday.
I could go into the specifics of my wrong-osity, but I don’t need to, except to tell you how it began—waking up to goop in the corners of my eyes alongside my baby dude, who’s one eye the day before had not only spread to his other, but now to mine, as well. It pretty much went downhill after that. Drops were later prescribed, of course, but the rest of the day was one big fat hellish day in need of a do-over token. Or a crapload of chocolate, massages and Brendan Fraser.
(What? You have your ways of coping, I have mine.)
It was about the time I had put two, crackly-crusted, overstuffed, under-seasoned, not-as-moistened-with-gravy-as-usual chicken pot pies in the oven, that I realized that I’d likely screwed dinner all-kinds-of up, too, and that it was time for me to get the heck out of the House of Doom. I walked a few feet from the door, unscrewed the hose from the kid’s sprinkler, affixed it to the plant feeder, and proceeded to nourish my thirsty plants, attempting to get downwind of the spray and hopefully wash away some of the bitterness that was spilling out all over me.
It didn’t work, though. The air was too thick of my distaste for the day to allow me to wash any of it away.
I returned inside, still upset, only to be met by more blunders. I swore I heard Twilight Zone music somewhere, or that Ashton Kutcher was about to jump out with a camera crew.
But leave it to the very one who began the infected day to begin with, my baby dude—my poor, goopy-eyed infant—who finally helped me lift my funk a little, and lighten my mood. Despite his blurry red eyes, he still was able to smile away any pain or sadness I felt. He quieted my angst, allowing me to have peace last night. That is, until he woke up with his eye crusted shut, scared because he couldn’t see.
I’m seriously hoping today is a better day than yesterday. Bring on the right to wash all the wrong away.