This past weekend was… well… let’s just say if I didn’t have to re-live it, I’d be okay with that.
Friday night I spent relaxing with my boyfriend. We went for a 20 mile bike ride (to his grandmother’s house and back). I’m glad we got to see her. She’s just as witty as my grandmother—whom I miss seeing on a regular basis. Life and being four hours away hasn’t helped that. I am hoping to spend a few weekends home this summer.
Saturday I headed to Columbus. Met my mom and went for a 24 mile bike ride. It was storming for nearly the entire ride (which, I have learned that I absolutely love riding in the warm rain). Three miles into the ride, I had turned around to let my mother know that we would be turning relatively soon (within 30-40 feet). Silly me thought she saw the riders turning our way and the sign that the trail was turning (this was during the only rain-free part of our ride… so visibility was clear). As I turned my head and turned my bike a bit, she came full-force into my back tire. Hit the pavement. I feel horrible about it—and more so because she’s also riding the 150 miles in Bike to the Bay with me and my boyfriend this weekend. Mom is okay, I think. She was scraped up a bit and said that her wrist hurt (but not badly enough to be sprained or fractured, she said—my father is making her go to the doctor today because the swelling hasn’t gone down). We finished the ride, she came to my house to dry her clothes and then she drove home (mind you, her house is 3 hours away from Columbus).
I started working on projects at the house—started cleaning a little and got some projects started that, to finish, required a trip to the hardware store. I got ready to head to the hardware store and couldn’t find my keys. Then it hit me. Before we went riding, I had thrown my keys in the glove box of my mom’s car. That’s where they were. Three hours away. I called my parents. Called my boyfriend (he offered to bring my spare set down), tried to borrow my sister’s car for the night (to no avail), called my parents back and agreed to wait it out till they brought the keys back on Sunday. I then proceeded to have a slight emotional breakdown (this isn’t the first thing I’ve blatantly forgotten over the past few weeks).
My parents decided to drive them down to me that night. I finished projects that I could do without a Lowe’s trip… poured myself a glass of wine, cut the grass and pulled weeds. Went inside to clean up and relax until my parents got there—the internet wasn’t working. I spent nearly an hour and a half on the phone with AT&T discussing what was wrong with my modem, running diagnostics and eventually determining that they needed to schedule a time for a technician to come out. Not my night.
After they left, I crashed. Overslept in the morning but felt as though I deserved it. Drove to Lowe’s (which, I learned my lesson that no, I truly don’t know where some back roads take me… and it’s not worth driving 12 miles out of the way to go to the store…), got drywall mud and paint. I’m a ‘pick the paint color based on its name’ kind of person (bedroom color: cream in my coffee)… Painted and mudded… waited on my sister to stop by to drop her cat off (we are cat-sitting till the 4th of July) and then headed to drop off my dog with a friend. I’m avoiding discussing my professional life (at least currently) on here but, long story short, I was not granted the day off to take my dog in (and stay to shadow) for her to have surgery. The fact that I’m not going to be there (or that I am not even able to drop her off/pick her up) is killing me.
Drove the two hours back home with a cat that hates car rides and our basset that wanted to play with the cat (thank goodness we had a carrier!). I was physically and emotionally exhausted.
I’m having a difficult time focusing on anything today—heck, I’ve had issues focusing on anything since my boss told me that I wasn’t able to take my dog for surgery. I know my dog is in excellent hands, I just wish I could be there.
I started working on projects at the house—started cleaning a little and got some projects started that, to finish, required a trip to the hardware store. I got ready to head to the hardware store and couldn’t find my keys. Then it hit me. Before we went riding, I had thrown my keys in the glove box of my mom’s car. That’s where they were. Three hours away. I called my parents. Called my boyfriend (he offered to bring my spare set down), tried to borrow my sister’s car for the night (to no avail), called my parents back and agreed to wait it out till they brought the keys back on Sunday. I then proceeded to have a slight emotional breakdown (this isn’t the first thing I’ve blatantly forgotten over the past few weeks).
My parents decided to drive them down to me that night. I finished projects that I could do without a Lowe’s trip… poured myself a glass of wine, cut the grass and pulled weeds. Went inside to clean up and relax until my parents got there—the internet wasn’t working. I spent nearly an hour and a half on the phone with AT&T discussing what was wrong with my modem, running diagnostics and eventually determining that they needed to schedule a time for a technician to come out. Not my night.
After they left, I crashed. Overslept in the morning but felt as though I deserved it. Drove to Lowe’s (which, I learned my lesson that no, I truly don’t know where some back roads take me… and it’s not worth driving 12 miles out of the way to go to the store…), got drywall mud and paint. I’m a ‘pick the paint color based on its name’ kind of person (bedroom color: cream in my coffee)… Painted and mudded… waited on my sister to stop by to drop her cat off (we are cat-sitting till the 4th of July) and then headed to drop off my dog with a friend. I’m avoiding discussing my professional life (at least currently) on here but, long story short, I was not granted the day off to take my dog in (and stay to shadow) for her to have surgery. The fact that I’m not going to be there (or that I am not even able to drop her off/pick her up) is killing me.
Drove the two hours back home with a cat that hates car rides and our basset that wanted to play with the cat (thank goodness we had a carrier!). I was physically and emotionally exhausted.
I’m having a difficult time focusing on anything today—heck, I’ve had issues focusing on anything since my boss told me that I wasn’t able to take my dog for surgery. I know my dog is in excellent hands, I just wish I could be there.
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