A series of unfortunate weekend events

I’m going to have to cancel my massage on Tuesday.

I keep debating back and forth about my self-care, my physical needs, my blah blah blah but Tuesday is beginning to look like a day I wish is already over, rather than one to look forward to as a day of writing and dog walking and massages.

The kid’s school hockey schedule has changed, he and his gear will need driving to and from rinks and school at irregular times which will impact my dog walking schedule. His dad is teaching that day and won’t be home till probably 9 pm so I’ll be on my own. Then there’s school pickup of the girl child because of her trombone, gymnastics, and after all that, a baseball thing after dinner for the teen as well.

I know I won’t be able to tune out all the obligations during a massage on a day like that. I’ll rebook to a more convenient time another day.

And then, there’s the snow. I woke this morning to half a foot of fresh snow outside. With a forecast on Monday to expect another 15-20 cm. And more on Tuesday.

It’s going to be a mess and adds a whole new layer of complications to my upcoming days.

Sure, the teen could do the shoveling, technically, but he got injured in hockey last night and should probably rest his shoulder.

Sure, my partner could do the shoveling, and likely will today, but not on Tuesday, he’ll be at work.

Tuesday used to be my favorite day.

Not anymore. ๐Ÿ˜ฎ

Last night, I too got injured. Basically I stepped out of the car onto a sheet of black ice. I slipped and crashed, face forward, skinning my gloveless hands.

Did you know ice is sharp?

The ice on the driveway is not smooth like a rink surface, but clumpy and mixed with debris. It’s like falling on broken glass.

SIGH.

To make matters worse, I was already annoyed even before this happened.

My daughter and I had to leave for the rink without dinner. I wasn’t home all day, I had three rinks to go to, and in between I picked up some shopping. My teen decided growing an inch a month is acceptable, so none of his clothes fit. The highways leading to and from rinks are close to shopping venues, and since I’m already there…you know it is.

Point is, I wasn’t home all day. But others were…how hard is it to defrost some sausages?

Blah.

So I get home with a half hour to spare before having to leave again when we discussed food options for later. The boys were done for the day so I left it to them.

I distinctly remember reminding them to ensure they would leave us some leftovers of whatever food there was going to be. I assumed they’ll take the easy way out and pick something up from somewhere, so I was anticipating a slice of pizza on the drive home. Right?

He texted me while I was still at the last rink they didn’t buy extras and ‘suggested’ we ‘stop somewhere’ and get ourselves ‘some food’. ๐Ÿ™

I did not want to make another fucking stop at 8:30 at night.

Woe is me. Blah blah blah.

This is what was occupying me on the drive home. And then I fell and hurt myself.

So now I’m at the door, bleeding hands full of stuff from the car and… it’s locked.

Locked?

They must have seen the lights from the car through the window. They knew we were on our way. They heard the girl child at the side door with her bulky bag…

It didn’t occur to anyone to open, or at least unlock the door?

So I kicked it. I mean, I could have dropped the stuff to dig out my keys and unlock it, or knock like a normal person, but my hands were full and bleeding …

Naturally that action caused a chain reaction of unpleasant events so I made the wise choice to let them all fend for themselves and went to bed without dinner.

Sigh.

My hands are fine now, a little sore where the skin came off, but I’ll survive. As long as I can type…๐Ÿ™„

Today, I will ignore the state of the house which is upside down with mess and clutter and salt-stained boots and coats, and immerse myself in my daughter’s ridiculous activity schedule. I’ll bring a charger to keep my phone from draining, treat myself to a coffee and maybe some chocolate, and read and write on mobile at the pool and the subsequent rink. Or daydream about Wednesday. ๐Ÿ™ƒ

I don’t understand what the appeal about weekends is. Mine suck. ๐Ÿ˜ถ

So. If anyone wants to send me a plane ticket to some place tropical, message me. I’ll meet you at the bar. ๐Ÿ˜œ

ย To share your thoughts keep scrolling down to get to the comment window. ๐Ÿ™‚

18 thoughts on “A series of unfortunate weekend events

  1. Thereโ€™s a lot to not like in this post. Obviously falling, bleeding, and having to cancel a massage are all awful. But TBH, I find it so aggravating when I come home to a locked door when they know Iโ€™m coming home. Lucky for me, it doesnโ€™t happen too often. I guess I made my point clear on this. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Tough weekend, yes putting yourself first is important, self-care and all that, but sometimes the best self-care is knowing when enough is enough. Enjoy the coffee and a few moments of respite from family demands x

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I hate weekends, too. I often find myself saying, “Sunday’s a day of rest for me, too!” while I’m making a point to pick up their discarded shoes, pants, toys, and dirty dishes. :/

    I hope your hands heal quickly!

    Liked by 1 person

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