my head hurts. it’s from the blonde roots that are trying to force their way out of my scalp and into the viewing public. the searing pain from pushing each individual strand back into my skin is overwhelming.

i know, i know. i LOOK like a brunette, but my blonde secret is starting to be less so. my facade is unraveling at warp speed thanks to a general lack of coherent thought processing.

my day started off so innocently. woke up, took a leisurely stroll with the dog and ella, soaking up the sunshine and last few bits of freedom before school started. i had a lunch meeting and a few hours to kill before i took ella to her first daycare outing. just as i return from my peaceful morning, i get a phonecall. it’s one of my co-workers. where am i? the meeting that i called started. an hour ago. *sigh*

so i grab my school bag, double check ella’s bag, put her in her car seat and start searching for my phone number list to call my lunch date and cancel. and i’m searching. upstairs. downstairs. upstairs again. and then downstairs. again. one snitty phonecall to tony later, i have my list. both bags and baby in car, and off we go. we drive down to the daycare and i’m ripping open her door when i look at her bag. hmmm. something’s missing….her breast milk. ohfercryingoutloud! shut the door, hop back in the car, mutter under my breath, drive back to the house, grab the stupid milk, and drive BACK to the daycare. inside, chat, chat, chat, kiss the baby, kiss the baby, and i’m off. again.

down the highway, call tony to have him pick up ella. he agrees. um, what about her car seat. the one sitting in my car? the one sitting in my car! ohfercryingoutloud!

by this time i’m in tears and reallllly late for my meeting. get it together girl. call dad. he’s nearby! he’ll save the day! drive to meet dad. transfer stupid seat and drive frantically to work, to try to salvage my reputation and the stupid meeting.

ahh, finally to my exit. off i go down the two lane road. behind a dump truck. doing fifteen miles an hour.

i stopped screaming obscenties at it around mile four.

or five.

and so marks the beginning of my glorious return to the working world.

wish me luck.