Don't you love it when...

Don’t you love it when you get home from an unexpected day at work and find that your partner has taken the mail and dumped it in what was formerly a neat pile of old magazines and that the only way you would have known it was today’s mail and not a now messy pile of old magazines is that he’d opened one letter and left it laying on top of now said messy pile.  And if you hadn’t seen that opened letter and realized it was today’s mail, you would have missed the car registration that is due and requires getting the car checked every year instead of every four or whatever it was in California.

And don't you love it when you find a "personal" reminder note from the Vet in the pile of mail for your dog to get her very important, will kill her from some icky disease if you don’t get them shots and they don't even bother to write her name in the blank space provided. It just says ‘Your Family member__________ is due for his(her) yearly exam and vaccinations.’  Why bother making a notice that allows for personal handwritten communication and then not use it? Not that you were ever going to go back to this vet since the last time you saw them, the staff swarmed Tigger the Dog, straddled her and taped her mouth shut.  Not the best thing to do to a dog that already has trauma issues and was whine-shriek-gurgling like Chewbacca.

Then, don't you love it when you have a five-minute conversation with someone who you’ve not seen in 14 hours about a series of events during your day that lead to a story with a titulating punch line and right before you get to said salacious punch line he says "I wasn't listening.  What did you say?"  And then you have to tell the story again but quicker because now you know he's not really listening so you skip over the little details because you’ve told it before and you’re trying to keep it interesting and to the point but then the story doesn't build the way it did the first time you told it and when you finally get to the scandalous punch line the second time, even you're not invested in the ending and it comes out weak and not at all worth the time and effort it took to speak.

And then, don’t you love it when you finally fall into a grumpy sleep in your lovely mattress pad warmed bed, and you have weird unsettled dreams that somehow end with you walking up a long staircase that creaks that is, for some reason, backstage during a performance and you're carrying a handful of fresh cut potatoes wrapped in a paper towel and trying to keep quiet but you know you have to get them into your dressing room before the intermission for the play you are not in or something horrible will happen.

Then, don’t you love it when you wake up all unsettled and discombobulated because of the weird dream about potatoes and it’s cold but pretty but really cold and you have a full day of bouncing about and smiling to look forward to...   yeah, I don’t love it. 

Actually, that’s a lie. 

If I didn’t have bouncing and smiling to look forward to, I’d be here, on the internet trying to figure out what fresh cut potatoes in a paper towel mean and grumbling about the evils of messy mail leavers who don’t listen to awesome stories that have outrageous endings on par with that Weiner guy, while looking for a new Vet that knows how to write the dog’s name… so I’m going to go with YEAH, I DO LOVE IT!!! BRING ON THE FRIDAY!!!

Yup.  Even I don't believe me.