The Day of Fail began at 12.45am and it began with Jackson.
It’s been warm recently. In an unseasonably cool summer we’ve suddenly ratcheded up the heat and humidity and so we’ve been leaving all the doors in the house open for the sake of air cicrulation. Though this DID result in a show for all viewers in the basement last night after I’d forgotten my shampoo right AFTER I’d taken all my clothes off for a shower, generally we’ve all been very good about respecting one another’s privacy… and so sound carried well when Jackson started whimpering and clawing at the door.
There’s only one thing that brings about these cries of distress and that is the onset of the Dire Rear. Oh, sweet Jackson.
I leap into action! Running up the stairs I open the outer door! I clear the path! And Jackson goes SPRINTING past me whimpering out into the night. Black yard, black dog, the only way to follow his repeated purgings were the horrible wet squishings and dulled explosions, like a demolitions squad working their way through a muddy minefield…
And then it is time for Doggy Thunder. Freed of his internal weight, freed of the horror lurking within (still thinking of Cthulu?), Jackson races into the house and bounds happily from room to room. We note the open basement door simultaneously and he LEAPS for the forbidden area of my nether-lair! Much chaos ensues. I sort of expected help from Kristen but she just closed the bedroom door and went back to bed.
Triumph was eventually mine but the battle was hard won. Fortunately there were no casualties (i.e. the dog didn’t run into a wall or eat an action figure) and I later felt guilty for being SO furious!
I don’t know any other mammal that expresses such complete joy as does a sprinting Jackson and I know he just wanted to run and run and run…. and allll I wanted was to go BACK to sleep! His was the tongue-lolling ears-back madness of JOY! His was the BASEMENT LUST. Briefly. He was flung back to his Jackson-zone and I lay uncomfortably staring at the ceiling wishing I was bloody well unconscious, listening to the dog mourn the brevity of his freedom.
Well – karma is a bitch – and it was only the beginning of the Day of Fail.
This morning I woke up late, got moving late, got parked in. I hate having to play Car Jumble before coffee happens to me and our brains were scrambled enough that we actually almost missed our on ramp. There was an accident on I-95 and it was uber-crowded at Savory where my breakfast was served swiftly but we waited a LONG time for Kristen’s, only to realize that it was handed to me in the same bag. (I didn’t want to peek at MY food while she was waiting for hers… that’s rude!). So – after breakfast informational fail, bagel was burnt, eggs were tasteless… our sunshiney day has turned grey and it’s the one day we’re late, and the ONE day our keyless coworker is early. And then when we open the back door, he tries to come in front door…
This Sunday is CLEARLY a Monday. The Day of Fail.
And my laptop can’t find our network so I can’t even post this!
Got it connected, but it didn’t stay that way. A customer wants to return a very scuffed and scratched CD and didn’t even bring a receipt and coincidentally Lives across the street from the artist but didn’t want to wait for the artist to come home… on top of everything else didn’t want to exchange the PACKAGE but just the DISC because the package had been signed… Payment issues. Went to get lunch – got a double helping of everything because they were closing up. Everything was kind of stale because they were, closing up. Got back and found a hole in the bottom of the container, but not before
spreading syrup liberally over two countertops. Performers late for concert next door which means a lot of “just killing time” customers pop into the store. A customer called 10 minutes before closing and asked if we could stay open for her… she arrives at close but isn’t happy about the colours of ukeleles and “just one more question”s us for a couple of minutes before being ousted. Register issues and then finally we depart and get stuck behind someone insisting on a 15mph top speed…
Red light. Red light. FUCK! And we’re stuck behind a bus… at least Kristen’s driving today…
“You did your best, but there’s no accounting for a mad Cuban-Texan whose been stoned all night.” – Keith. (in regards to a performer who was late to his gig…)
