Oh, February. How I hate you.
I woke to a most depressing situation this morning. Not enough coffee for a pot. It's like running out of money it's so unthinkable in this household. What kind of crumbling infrastructure are we dealing with here? Chip and I parcel out several weak ounces of brewed coffee each in our tiny ridiculous bone china kitty mugs that would normally be banned from our house for their sweetness except my mom likes a thin lipped coffee cup when she visits. They're strangely twee and I shun them on principle. The coffee situation would be enough but it's not nearly as bad as the sour milk: my first and only big bite of cereal is truly shocking and the kids get to witness their mom with her head hung over the garbage disposal--that's a nice memory for them. It was the kind of sour that's been fermenting in the fridge for a couple days and causes one to back up from the sink as it's poured out.
Gray invisible killer
Then my sister calls and tells me it's 70 degrees and sunny in Alabama. Luckily for her, her phone cuts out before I unleash profanity. There's ice everywhere here from a storm yesterday. Walking the dog is treacherous. In these extreme conditions I do what I must do. I send Chip to walk the dog.
Chip informs me that David Cameron, the Tory shadow P.M. in England, and his wife lost their seven year old son yesterday. I find the YouTube clip of Gordon Brown paying his respects on behalf of the government for this terrible loss to one of their own. He does a great job speaking from the heart, something he's not inclined to do well and I cry. It hardly affects the flow of my day. I'm crying anyway about February.
Then, finally, "The cherry on the top of this messed up pie", as Allison once said....after returning from my errands, I return home to find in the mirror that I've been traipsing all over the west side of Madison with my shirt on inside out.
March, please come take me.
A pan of brownies does little for my mood but others are happy