The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Grown Up Day.

Did you ever read Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day as a kid? I did. A lot. I would justify this as a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad grown-up day in the world of Brandi.

I’m not going to sugar coat this day nor its realities. It’s not all rainbows and butterflies today and I’m sorry if you don’t feel like reading depressing crap but I honestly just need to vent. Here’s my so-called life as of late:

First of all yesterday was the 3 year anniversary of my grammy’s death. L Still miss her so much it hurts. Still catch myself wanting to call her. She truly could brighten my dark days. Had a relationship with my grandmother I wish most could have with their “grammy’s”. I miss and love you everyday (so cliché yet so true). The most beautiful soul to have ever lived. Serious. She made the best toast ever. Yes, toast. Just sayin.

I hate the 26^th of every month. I have since February. The day we all found out Thomas died. That morning I was happily painting my “brandy-wine” colored walk-in closet with my mom. We were chatting about how I needed to call Thomas and tell him to get here to help us asap. I wasn’t going to roll the whole house without him. I said I’d pay him in Busch Light and pizza. That afternoon, guess what? Yup, you guessed it. His dad called with that call. Sweet.

Today I woke up on the infamous 26^th. Yup, 6:50 am – I have to be leaving my house at 6:50 exactly to make it to work by 7:30. Brushed my teeth, put my contacts in, changed my undies – left. Forgot my purse and lunch and my keycard to get INTO work. Oh! And deodorant. I was late waiting for someone to let me in and now my armpits smell like onions. Not laughing.

Lunch. Met Matt at Wal-Mart. I was parking and what do I see? Matt’s pickup blocking the way and backed into another vehicle. He forgot to put the parking break on. Oh! And he is in between insurance. Awesome.

Go inside. Get our lunch. Check out – debit denied. 3 days ago I transferred money into a new Wells Fargo account. It’s went through from my old bank but is nowhere to be found in the WF account. I’ve had 7  phone conversations to get this figured out. No word yet. Out all my money for good or until Monday.  It’s more frustrating than I care to put into words. Left our lunch in the self check-out.

Leave Wal-Mart to go return some pants at Maurices WITH MY RECEIPT WITHIN 30 DAYS. Can’t refund due to no ID. Due to no purse in Watertown - I can’t get my $40 today. WHATEVER I said while I walked away. Not very nice but I wasn’t in a great mood. Sorry sales associate. Not. I'm nice. Oh well.

Go back to work. Mad about no purse. Mad about onion armpits. Mad about no lunch. Mad about the truck hitting another car. Mad about no money/banking issues. Mad about maurices not being able to give me $40 to live on for the weekend. Mad. Mad. Mad. Mad.

And I thought all this was going to be the biggest problem of the day. ha.

Then a few hours later I get told my Grandpa Rod has cancer. Found in his liver, lungs, esophagus, and stomach. Wow. That sick, pit in your stomach feeling. I feel very child-like and scared for having no other way of putting this:  I don’t want him to die. (lump in throat). I  don’t.

Sometimes in life there are no words (this is me having no words – ha). None of the day’s prior mishaps compare to this news. I want to go home and cry. And I’m gonna.

{Sorry for all the negativity but I’m overwhelmed with the uncertainties of life. All that has happened -- all of which I never imagined. And how some people get thrown a tornado-hurricane-blizzard-migraine-ratatouille-downpour storm of a ride and others get thrown a rainbow-daisy-sugar-pony-meadow-sort of ride.}

F-BOMB.