Bugs, Bugs, and Broken Things

On Sunday, the suby wouldn't start and AAA came to the rescue, towing Alex's car to the shop for the second time in two weeks. Yesterday the Volvo gear shifter was reluctant to move out of Park, and I thought I would be trapped in the daycare parking lot. Instead, I bruised my palm banging the shifter button into place. Today, it wouldn't move out of Drive. The Bean and I were officially stuck in the neighbor's driveway (I was using it to turn around en route to daycare and work). AAA again to the rescue, my car also towed to the shop for repair. Alex is now driving one of my dad's POS cars, and I'm the proud driver of some Enterprise rental - a Nissan truck that I'm getting for the price of a sedan. Yeehaw, what a steal.

This is just the beginning of the sad, sad tale that is Joanna and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Annoying Week.

I got a parking ticket on Friday when the Bean and I met my cousin downtown to walk around, shop, and drink juice. Except it wasn't even a real parking ticket. The dickhead parking cop (I know he/she's just doing his/ her job) wrote me up for my missing front license plate. Thanks for noticing, pal, it's been, like, 5 years. And today I couldn't find a parking place at work. Fortunately, I was already several hours late (see above), so what difference would an extra 15 make? Plus, if I get ticketed for parking illegally, they won't even know who to write the ticket to because I'm in a rental (again, see above).

My hands, wrists, and ankles are spotted with scabbed over flea bites, remnants of my compulsion to itch despite having read about the resurgence of the Black Plague just this morning at breakfast. We also have an intermittent problem with fruit flies, and a persistent problem with sugar ants. Should we bomb the place? Well, there's the baby to consider. Plus, we've already sprayed about a half-dozen times. I guess I shouldn't be too surprised when Francie shows up with her period at age 9, or grows an 11th toe, or survives some rare brain cancer, what with the environmental toxins we are knowingly exposing her to and all.

The lawn mower is broken. Our dishwasher is on the fritz. The MacBook stopped working a few weeks ago and we haven't gotten around to taking it to the Apple store for a work-up. We still haven't stained the fence. Book Club is in a week and I haven't even gotten ahold the book yet, let alone read it. I noticed this morning that I may have gained a few pounds. So I ate apple pie and peppermint ice cream for breakfast, and then snacked on candy corn. I can't afford to get my hair colored regularly, so I'm rocking an off-style "ombre" look. We still seem to spend more money than we make, despite feeling like we are pulling back very tightly on the reigns. I mean, I finally squelched that desire for a new living room rug by relocating the plain grey one from the nursery. That's progress, right? And then there's the current-but-temporary marital discord. Therapy anyone?

But good thing I have a mom to complain to regularly! Oh wait. Well at least I have all my besties close by and get to see them regularly! Oh wait. Good thing I have my hobbies, and so much free time/energy to invest in them! Oh wait. There's always retail therapy! Or binge eating! Or layinig on the couch and watching a 90210 marathon without any responsibilities! Not so fast ...

I know, poor me. Wah wah wah.

If I said that to Francie, she would poke herself in the eye, attemting to rub them like a crying baby. Then "shh shh shh" she would say immediately, learning from Wheels on the Bus coupled with daycare just how to soothe a crying babe. Or a whiny mama.

But for reals, I do have my health, my beautiful little family, a cute house to call our own, a supportive father and a moving-closer brother, and fabulous girlfriends both near and far. And this blog. Thank goodness for this blog, where I can air my #firstworldproblems for all the Interweb to read. I think tonight I'll read Francie one of my favorite childhood books, Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day.