The Numbers, Time Warp, Poop, Vomit and Irritating People Day

So, yeah, a good day all around.


I am in a bind at work.  I have taken on a massive job to help spend money that must be spent in order to protect our grant.  But the job hasn't gone as smoothly as I'd figured and, effective Wednesday, I'll be down to four classes from the usual 18 because of summer schedules.  Those four classes, three of which are low producers, have now got two weeks to do as much of the remaining 45,000 pieces.  It ain't gonna happen.


To complicate things further, I've had one of those weeks with roadblock after roadblock.  For example, Margaret was sick on Wednesday, which never happens.  Nance was stuck schlepping boxes of completed work from schools in three cities to the employer.


Today I stopped at our office to pick up three small jobs that had been dropped off.  I can't lift the boxes, so I asked for help.  Should have been out of there in 10 minutes, max.  Half an hour later I called to see if maybe the facilities guy had forgotten about me.  Nope, he was just stuck dealing with an IT problem so the IT people don't have to come out.


I was so late getting out of there that I went straight to my chiropractic appointment.  I'm usually there for 10-15 minutes.  Today, naturally, I was there almost 45 minutes.  Because of the short schedules for some classes, it meant not being able to get to one of my schools where the big job is being done.


I picked up Madelyn later than I care to on a Friday afternoon.  About two minutes after traffic leading up to the Cajon Pass came to a complete halt, Corey called to say he needs to provide drinks for tonight's band event and can I have them there in half an hour.


Uh, no, but I will get them there.


I called Tom to ask where one could get cold 2-liters of soda.  He suggested checking a pizza place.  Mad and I stopped at Papa John's, where I noticed the distinct aroma of a dirty diaper... coming from my daughter, not the "restaurant."  Not much I could do right then, so we made the purchase and headed over to find Corey... who realized he had forgotten to bring appropriate clothes to school for the big event.  Oh, and call time was in three minutes.


The three of us headed home so Corey could locate his stuff and I could clean up Mad.  Just as we pulled into our neighborhood, Mad puked.  Repeatedly.  All over herself and her carseat.


Change of plans.  I sent Corey in to find what he needed before we raced back to school.


Corey had no idea what time the event would end, so I had him ask his teacher.  Her response?  "When it's over."


Really?  (This woman has driven me nuts all year with her similarly unhelpful and immature remarks to Corey, but I haven't addressed it because of his own behavior.  Sometimes I am compelled to act like an idiot around him, too.)


I have her cell phone number and called to get a better answer, but she didn't pick up.  So I pulled around to the band room, dragged my puke and poop covered daughter out of her nasty carseat and marched into the class, where I asked to speak with her privately.


I expressed, rather clearly, that I had sent Corey for an answer.  Because of the situation with my (smelly) daughter, I couldn't attend the event that night and I needed to arrange for someone to pick Corey up (Tom has trainings down the hill on Friday nights).  And, while I understood that she and Corey haven't gotten along all year, I didn't appreciate her lack of professionalism.


She, the woman who just last night was among the crowd of people laughing when Corey mentioned that his name is really Corcheval, not Corey, had the nerve to say that she and he have been getting along great this semester.


"That's your side, but that's not what I hear.  Now what time can I pick him up?"


She couldn't narrow down a specific time, but I did at least get a ballpark.  I called Tom and asked him to skip the training because I don't want to have to put Mad back into her carseat until I can clean it.


I brought Mad home, stripped her down, tossed her in the tub and flung her into bed.  Well, not quite like that, but she's clearly not feeling well and went to bed without dinner.  I wonder if she'll be up later?


Tom came in and we talked about our days.  Then he mentioned that he made plans for tennis on Sunday. 


Know what Sunday is?  The one day that I've asked him to leave for family things.  Like his birthday.


Calgon?  Anyone?