Rule #1: Never Blog About Serenity

Yeah. That gentle snowfall? The inner peace? The enjoying the season?

It all went to crap right around 10:30 yesterday morning.

First, the "light dusting on grassy areas" turned into a good four inches of wet, cold snow all over the place. It's a non-discriminatory snow--it's on the sidewalk, it's on the street, it's all over my car. And it all froze up last night so right this minute, it's a big gigantic pain in the ass kind of snow. I'm waiting through a two-hour school delay, which means the little kid won't go to school at all.

Ordinarily, that'd be good. But two leetle tiny things are preventing me from breathing right now. First, I have a boatload of work to get done today. And second, I haven't bought the kids snowboots yet.

Yep. Mother of the Year yet again, ladies. You can all stop campaigning. I've got that one wrapped up.

The snow also means that the tree people are not, in fact, coming out to take down the Godforsaken Walnut Tree in my side yard. The tree I've loathed for eight years. The tree I've begged and pleaded to have replaced. So DH now has four more days to reconsider. See, he's a tree freak, and it doesn't matter how messy or dangerous that particular tree is. Thank God I already put down a deposit on the work, that's all I can say.

Moving right along...I was supposed to have lunch with a really good friend of mine yesterday. And around 10:30--right as the world was drowning under a "light dusting on grassy areas"--her husband called me. To tell me she was in the hospital.

Nice.

I then set to work worshipping the Gods of Sugar and Cocoa, to put my worried mind at ease. Which means I still won't fit into a dress for this black-tie, command performance party next Thursday night. "Hey, there's Kim...what a fatass!!" O Hershey, why hast thou forsaken me?

I can't find a decent source for an article I need to finish. Oh, and the post office, once again, lost a package of mine. That package happens to contain three prescriptions--one for my blood pressure, one for allergies, and one also for my blood pressure in that it keeps any more two-legged living beings from joining our happy, happy family.

The post office denies all responsibility. In between popping her gum and sighing heavily, the oh-so-professional worker who answered the phone explained it all. "Ma'am, it's the holidays. We have a truck of 500 packages we haven't even unloaded yet. Maybe it'll come tomorrow."

Thanks.

The prescription company was equally helpful, in that fantastic American managed care kind of way. "We can't replace those meds, Mrs. F. You don't have any refills remaining."

I get that. But I didn't actually receive the final refill. And I fail to see how that's my fault.

Long story short, I spent 45 minutes on the phone with various levels of management until I finally yelled a rant about this being the reason people hate mail-order pharmacy, and slammed the phone down. I never hang up on people. But right that second, I hit my limit of Shit I'm Willing To Put Up With. Done.

Needless to say, this all wasn't helping the blood pressure. For which I'm out of meds.

Anyway, the night ended somewhat quietly. I have a new day for the Godforsaken Walnut Tree to come down. My friend is feeling better and hopes to be discharged tomorrow, so that's a relief. The snow will melt. Boots will be bought. Like the song says, I will survive.

But I might be darn grouchy for awhile.