My F'ing Week

Fingers, football, failures, feet, phones (yes that's cheating, but it's my blog), and fishing.

It's been 7 days of fatigue.




Starting with last Wednesday.  Just a bad, bad day, along with Thursday and Friday.  Days of failure, marked by fate and frustration.  'Nuff said about that series of days.....




Then on Friday, I learned that JA2 proposed to someone he had known for five weeks.  Her fearful mom (can't say that I blame her) sent me a FB message because she wanted details on this foul man who had crept into her daughter's life.  I pulled out my JA2 briefcase -- yes I have one of those -- and went through incident after incident with the mom, and then the daughter from those frightening years.  All of those memories had been neatly sorted, folded and stored away, so pulling them out, though necessary, was exhausting.  We need to say fervent prayers that this lady follows her head and not her heart in this instance. 




Oh, and if Friday wasn't bad enough, Emma had her iPhone 6 stolen during her first week of high school.  Verizon employees unfortunately get no breaks on phones, so she will end up with an old Samsung of mine or maybe that cool little flip phone of Sloan's (that is another blog in itself).




The weekend was a forgetful blur.  Sometimes forgetful blurs aren't really that bad!




I had a fanatically busy day at work on Monday and had to get Sloan to his appointment with the hand doctor in the afternoon to check out that little finger!  I spoke to Sloan on Sunday about the schedule.  I would pick him up from home, fly to the doctor at 3:30, sit in the parking lot on a conference call for 10 minutes (I needed to be able to look at docs), then get into the doctor by 3:40.  Sounds very doable, or at least I thought.




Oh, but no.  Sloan had told me he might go fishing with a friend Monday morning.  So when I got the text, "I went fishing with a friend" in the early afternoon, I thought nothing about it.  I was on a frivolous conference call and didn't respond to Sloan's text.  I feverishly drove home, only to find the house empty!  I called out to Sloan.  No answer.  I went outside and called out to Sloan.  Again, no answer, other than chickens squawking.  At this point, I realize, "OMG, I'll bet he's still FISHING with this friend."  I called him, I texted him.  "Where are you???????"  He called, quite sorrowful.  Yes, he was on the far end of town, an exit that I passed as I was heading home to pick him up.  I was FURIOUS, to put it mildly.




I drove to the address he provided, thinking I knew the way.  Well, Ashley Autrey and many others know I have no sense of direction, so when I got to the general area, I couldn't find the street, so I had to navigate.  The call was to start in 5 minutes!  I finally found the house, parked in front, blocking the road, had to move when a car needed to pass, and was all the time feverishly thinking about how BAD this punishment was going to be.  As I was getting the text from work, "Are you getting on the call," Sloan was getting into my car, wet swim trunks and all.  I was fuming and very close to flipping out.  Had to get on my conference call and do it all on the fly.  It is very difficult to sound professional and "together" when you are giving the death scowl to your son at the same time.




On a positive note -- yes there are a few in here (LOL) -- Sloan was released to play football with a glove and a splint.  He, of course, thought this was fantastic.  I was still trying to figure out if I was even going to TAKE him to football practice, after this day.  I did decide to take him ultimately because he had been waiting weeks to actually play and HIT.  We had to go by his dad's house first to get his football gear, though.  He got in the car with his stuff and scissors and proceeded to cut sleeves off one of his shirts along the way.  After the knife incident (and all of the other Sloan incidents), Sloan in a car with a knife is a little nerve-wracking.  Nevertheless, I drove pretty fast to get him there on time, and as soon as I turned into the school, I asked him if he had gotten his glove -- the functional and famously needed glove in order to play.  For those of you who know Sloan or have read any of these stories, you probably know the answer.  NO, he forgot it.  AGGGGG, that boy!!!!  At this point, I am beyond my anger to the point of mama madness -- not in the mad way, in the crazy way -- and he realizes it.  It was a very quiet ride back to his dad's house and again back to practice.  He will be paying me, somehow, for all that gas I used, and it will NOT be in the form of his gas in return.  That boy's gonna be mowing lawns.




And then came the highlight of this bad, frowzled (yes this is a word) week.  Someone walked past me and said, "your toes look great!"  Yes, you know you're having a bad week when a toe compliment is the highlight!  But here is why.  I was always self-conscious of my toes.  My second and third toes are longer than my big toe!  In my family, this condition is known as "Tolley Toes."  It's a genetic thing, along with others than can't all be included in one blog post! 




However, my whole attitude changed when I was approached, as I was out with friends one night years ago, by a guy who saw my feet in sandals and said that my toes indicated Greek royalty!  He gave me a very believable story about Greeks and second and third toes.  At least it seemed believable to me after a few glasses of wine.  Amazingly, after further research, I realized he wasn't completely full of baloney!  Heck, I could be famous Greek royalty if my ancestry didn't point me to families in Ireland and Scotland.  If only these toes could talk!   So here is what my research says:

SECOND TOE

The longer your second toe, the more leadership qualities you have. You are dynamic and resourceful.

 

THIRD TOE

If it is comparatively long, it means you are incredibly energetic and resourceful, especially at work.

Ah hah, this resourcefulness explains how I could pick Sloan up, keep my cool, finish a conference call, and refrain from murder!  Yes!!!  Well, and ultimately the whole revelation about toes was a pretty good thing.  Ended up dating the guy for about six months, all because of a toe conversation!




So that is how I will end this frustrating week's saga.  On a funny and foot stomping note, so we can all start fresh next week!