I should have known it would be a crappy day when my coffeemaker broke. Definitely doesn't bode well.
Things seemed as though they would go along better when I played with my little girl during the day and we watched the movie Bolt together.
Then we decided to take our daughter to see the latest Winnie-the-Pooh movie. First of all, the mall we went to usually has very wealthy clientele, those who usually look down at you for not wearing designer brands and go in and out of Louis Vuitton for kicks. In my khakis, payless shoes and little Abercrombie tank top, I totally felt outclassed. My poor XOXO purse has seen better days with its broken zipper and fringing shoulder strap. It's my only purse and I have worn it all year. Each time I think that I will replace it, I think of something more important to buy for the family. I mean, hey, I prioritize. Unfortunately for me, it usually means that my appearance and clothing ends up at the bottom of the list.
So I'm already walking into this mall feeling inadequate and pondering the description given in a movie I had watched the night before in which a blonde describes another blonde as "sandy blonde, ugly blond." (I happen to be dark, sandy blond...) My daughter starts out well, sitting down and watching the movie with us avidly. Then all hell breaks loose as she doesn't want to stay seated and I have to take her out of the theatre because she starts loudly yelling when I refuse to let her run around. Finally, I got her straightened out. People nearby have their kids all nicely doing what they should, and they're giving me evil looks as if I'm the worst mom in the world.
Then we take her to get some food, which was mistake #2 considering her attitude at the time. Again, the waitresses are giving me looks--my mother-in-law was with us, and, of course, she wants to take us to the Sheraton hotel of all places. I was forced to take her to the bathroom to straighten her out, smack her bottom a little and wipe her face with a damp towel to calm her down and refresh her a bit.
By the time I got home, I was so freaking exhausted that I just wanted to scream. I relax a bit and check out writing forum here, read a few news articles. My husband then calls me over to watch "Hangover." (Which some of you on here may enjoy, but considering that my husband began by comparing me to the uptight girlfriend in the previews, I was not at all feeling better about myself when he pronounces the uptight girlfriend a b**ch.)
I'm seriously going to just take a bath and try and shake off this day. Oh, yes, and I think I might find something chocolate and eat it.
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