Teresa's horrible no-good very bad day

Yesterday started out badly. I spilled soup in my school bag, all over my calendar, papers from the Department of Education, papers from a meeting Monday afternoon, and my to-do notebook. Then I rubbed my itchy eye so hard that I must have broken a blood vessel because now it's all red and runny like some grotesque eye infection. My hair looked awful...it's too long and I don't think I dried it long enough so it hung in gray strands like old sea-hag hair.

(I am on the road to recovery. I have an appointment with an eye doctor at 10:30 and an appointment with Patrick for a haircut at 4:00.)

I watched most of One Punk Under God last night. It's a story about Jim and Tammy Faye Baker's only son Jay. He's a pierced and tattooed punk minister of a church called Revolution and a very thoughtful, intelligent man. He believes that religion should have an open door to all people and preaches sermons with titles such as “Nobody Likes a Selfish Bastard,” “Jesus: A Friend to Porn Stars,” and “Galatians Baby!” Definitely worth watching.

Peter has that obsession young men get with cars. He's been without one for a couple years and he's intent on getting one...yesterday. He's being rational and thoughtful about it but my eyes glaze over when people talk about cars. All they are for me is four wheels to get me where I'm going. I bought a car once over the phone...no, wait...I had a friend buy a car for me over the phone. The people at work shrieked and wanted to know why I wouldn't drive it first. What would that tell me?

It was after the tornado which smashed my little gray Camry flat. I was without a car for a couple weeks, then decided I had had enough of that. I had Joanne call the Toyota dealer in Mankato to ask what they had in a certain price range and then tell them I'd take the green one. That was about all the psychic energy I had for that process at the time so it worked out fine. I wish I still had that car.

I like my Beetle for going to work but it's a car for short trips and nobody in the back seat. When we take Ella, getting her in and out of the car seat takes a contortionist. We don't like to take it to the grocery store because you almost have to pack stuff in the glove box to get it all in the car. If you have bad knees you absolutely do not want to try and ride in the back seat. It would take a crane and the jaws of life to get you out. And that's enough about cars.

Comments

Amanda said…
as i loaded callum into the car after school yesterday (which takes contortionist-like moves for me, too), i said he'd had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. it must be going around. let's hope today is better for both of you. also, i love one punk under god. the world needs more jay bakkers.
Jill said…
I hope the spilled soup meant you didn't have to deal with the paperwork that was destroyed. It would ease the pain of your day at least a little.

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