Tuesday, September 15, 2009


Dear Day,

You started out just fine. At first I was optimistic about how you would turn out. As I was able to lay in bed with our puppy until 9 am, I was sure that this Tuesday would be a great one. I packed all of our things in preparation for our move. And it was then, darling day, that I think you took a turn for the worse.

When Mark asked me if I wanted to grab lunch, I declined, because I was so eager to move into our home. I'll admit, that was my mistake. After finally arriving in our neighborhood, things got ugly. But of COURSE we needed a money order. Obviously. Since everyone naturally carries money orders around in their pockets.

So a drive to the 7-11 it was. And after sitting in the car for 15 minutes, it turns out that our account has a $400 limit. Oh, day, it was then that you really took a nasty turn. A trip to our bank was necessary. After plugging BB&T into our GPS, it then naturally took us to a retirement village. And a BB&T was no where to be found.

And we chose ANOTHER BB&T and finally found one. Piece of cake. Piece of pie. We were on our way. Back to the housing office we go, and my stomach began to growl. I thought, "Surely we will drop Piper off and then head to Chipolte!" ... because, naturally, I want to be just like MckMama.

On the way to our housing office, Mark decided to call the movers to schedule a move in date. "Either today or tomorrow would be great," he said. But then more bad news came: "Um, we can't make it there until Monday..."

Joy. Because having NO furniture for a solid week is just lovely, isn't it? Mark gets 8 days of leave for free, and, sadly, we will be sitting in an empty home for the majority of it. Major suckage.

So we arrived at "home" to inspect our house. Only to find that neither doorbells work and our kitchen is weird. There is literally NO place to put dish towels or oven mits. There is also only ONE drawer in which to put utensils. And, let's face it, I have a LOT of kitchen supplies. Where do they expect me to put them? In the bottom of a cabinent? .... Who designed this kitchen? A man who eats out every meal? Probably

Anyway, day, you were getting on my nerves by this point. But finally it was time to head to Chipolte. But wait! You had more in mind. As I was climbing in our Jeep Patriot, I looked down to notice that our tire was completely flat. Completely. Flat. Completely. Did I say completely? Because it was. By this point, I could have sworn that a lion was actually *inside* my belly, judging from the sonuds that were coming from my abdomen.

As Mark struggled with the jack and tools that came with our Jeep, I knew we were in for it. I lovingly suggested that we just call USAA, our trusty military insurance. Oh, but wait! Silly me didn't opt for roadside assistance. Bummer! So, stuck again, we are. As I watched my husband sweating beneath our Jeep in his ABUs, I thought, "Dear Day, you can die."

Finally we resorted to calling USAA back and asking them to come. So, come they are, with a fee, of course! The man asked us to please call the gate to notify the guards that he was coming so they would let him in. And so Mark did. He dialed the number left on the sheet of paper in our kitchen by the housing office. Beep beep beep. "This line has been disconected."

What the FUDGE!??!

So, off he trucked in his uniform down the road and to the gates to meet the man. And all the while, my car is still sitting in the La Quinta Inn parking lot. My stomach is empty. I'm grumpy. Our house is so freaking white that it's ridiculous. Our house is almost BEGGING us to paint it avocado green.

I must comply with its wishes.

Our Ikea trip has been moved up due to major suckage.

I can hear the dude's truck in our driveway humming like an airplane. He's here.

To be continued.


  1. Booooo day. I hate you.

  2. I'm glad they finally arrived to fix your tire. I hope you get Chipolte soon!

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  4. I hope you had a better day Shannon and got something to eat!