It has been Such a Monday today. The evidence:

I emailed back and forth with a co-worker this morning - for more than half an hour - only to find out we were talking about two completely different things. This is what happens when people start naming files/processes too alike. All those emails and the only thing truly required - a simple "Yes." Grrr.

Doodlebug came home from school with a Sink-the-Titanic sized iceberg on his shoulder and then had a global meltdown over his "Making Words" homework - because he could not think of any words. Meaning: He was being lazy about doing his homework and thought that if he whined long enough, I'd come along and stab it with my knightly sword, claiming that today would always and forever be No Homework Day. Huzzah!

Alas, I misplaced the sword and could not, in good conscience, slay homework with hair that needed washing. Plus, I was being held hostage by the evil wizard of FUBAR'd Work Issues. Not much one can do when the pointy wand of deadlines is being painfully held up one's nostril.

And... the parents aren't really allowed to help with this homework anyhow. It's a sheet with 8-10 letters, from which they make up different words. Most times they're fairly difficult combinations with only a handful of glaringly obvious words. I can provide word charade-like "hints" to get his brain chugging along like the little engine who will then leave me alone, but that's about it. Since my multi-tasking functions were already overloaded, smoking, and threatening to re-enact Pompeii, I handed him a dictionary. That way, he could look up the words he wasn't sure how to spell instead of tapping me on the shoulder every couple of minutes.

His new favorite word: SMITE

I am SO sure his teacher will love this new word - especially his sincere and intelligent usage of it. His brother - not so appreciative. Of course, he was the one told: "If you don't stop Looking at me, I will SMITE you and you will HURT with the SMITING. I will SMITE you with my hand and you'll wish you'd stopped looking at me."

THEN... Tonight - a few moments ago - I was watching that new show, What About Brian. So. In tonight's episode, 'Brian' was supposed to have a complete conniption while in a Barney suit. Nothing is funnier than a grown adult, dressed up like the purple pain-in-the-arse, and then having a throw-down conniption fit. And I needed the laugh.

Except, the power went out Just. As. The. Scene. Started. And I missed it. And now, I'm missing Huff. After missing it last night (because Mr. Clean thought that watching Doom would be a good use of time). Stupid power.

The biggest evidence - while having nothing to do with Monday - but quite a bit to do with why a standard Monday is bugging me so much more than usual:

BOTH of my best friends.... FORGOT. MY. BIRTHDAY.

Miss Wahoo (of known-her-since-2nd-grade fame) told me early last week, "As if I'd ever forget your birthday." And then she went and did just that. Hello?? Are you reading this, Miss Wahoozie? Did you fall into a rabbit hole or something?

My other best friend forgot my birthday last year and then blamed it on everything except the sun itself - and the fact that I did not Remind. Him. So, last week? I slipped it into two - count 'em - two emails as casual conversation. I thought perhaps, even that could be missed so I made sure that Mr. Clean specifically mentioned it during a phone conversation with him. And he still FORGOT. Again. Two years in a row. He'll probably blame the sun this time.

Are the gods peeved with me? If so, they need to learn how to email people - give them a warning or something:

Dear Dragonfly - You know how the other day you yelled at the person driving in front of you? Yeah, that surf-poser doing 30mph and weaving all over the road because he was too busy checking himself out in the mirror. Well, that was one of us - on our day off - and we didn't appreciate the comments, regardless of how inventive your language was at the time. So, be forewarned. We're not happy. Don't go expecting anyone to do or say anything nice to you this next week. You're in TIME OUT.

p.s. Yes, we know it's your birthday. That's the point.

The gods

Something like that would have sufficed. I'd have understood. Without it, I can only consider that my friends... have found other friends who are better than me. They're probably out there having fun with their Shiny Newer Better friends. And getting coffee with them. And telling Them "Happy Birthday."

To that, I have just one thing to say - Y'all Suck.
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