Today I worked, then I went to the kids' school where I volunteer on the school student-run newspaper.
Not one of the young people had met their deadline for the Valentine's edition, so we had to regroup and reformat. Or, rather, THEY had to regroup and reformat. I refused.
Then I went to the nursing home, just to check on my mother. She was extremely agitated and since she is non-verbal, I couldn't figure out why. I finally asked the nurse to give her an Ativan, and the pill took the edge off. I then requested she be put to bed right after supper, as I could not think of any other possible reason for the aggravation.
I came home to find my girls in a screaming match, smacking and clawing one another. After I mediated the shrieking down to uncontrollable sobs and suggestions that I call a psychiatrist because "I can't take that little girl anymore," I cooked supper, put the girls to bed at 6:30 because they were out of control, and am now eating a half pound of chocolate.
Some days, you just have to go with what's necessary. Plus, the wine cooler truck didn't stop when I tried flagging it down.