Did ya'll read yesterday's post of mine? How it was a day of multiple setbacks? How I hoped it would be a better day today?
It. Was. Not.
I mean, it started out alright. Slept in a bit, had a leisurely morning, got organized to do chores, but truck hates me and won't start. Lawn tractor still has bad tire. Husband to the rescue, battery cable was loose, helped me finish chores, so that was ok.
Got ready for church, made it there on time, enjoyed a great morning of worship and fellowship, came home, delicious leftovers for lunch. Blendered tomatoes for roasting in oven, batch of bread on to rise, husband organizing the shed, I'm watching the newest episode of My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic (my guilty pleasure), having a nice, restful afternoon.
This is the part where the narrator says, "Little did she know..."
4:30 rolls around. My mom texts me.
Trouble? No trouble.
Other than the fact I was supposed to have cooked carrots for 30 and delivered them to the hall in my hometown for a fundraiser supper. At 3:30. And also worked a shift in the kitchen from 3:30 to 4:30. So, you know, no big.
6 pounds of carrots have never been peeled, chopped, boiled, and driven somewhere that fast in the history of the universe, I'm pretty sure. If I hadn't been so utterly frustrated with myself, I would have been in touch with the Guiness World Record commitee.
Left husband in charge of rising bread and children and headed for town. I arrived at 5:14. Not bad, right? Worked until 6:30 washing dishes and keeping steam table filled. At least none of the other ladies working their shift got snarky with me for being absent- minded, like I was preparing myself for all the way to town. I had a whole bunch of snippy rejoinders planned out and didn't get to use them!
Know what else didn't get used?
MY @#£%☆¡¿ POT OF CARROTS.
Seems the crowd was smaller than expected so my contribution to feast was extra. It happens, I certainly wasn't the only person hauling home a giant pot of something leftover. They'll freeze and we can eat them a different day.
If you don't laugh about these kinds of things, you'll cry. Or kill someone. So I'm trying to laugh.
Also, the bread stuck to the pan and ripped when taking it out to cool. But this is ok. I like to eat when I'm cranky. So warm, ripped up bread is making me feel better.
I didn't manage to get my daily sheep snap done either, so here's another old one from back at lambing time in the spring:
Do you ever have bad days? I know my day certainly could have been a lot worse, but I still think it's ok to be frustrated when things don't go the way you thought they would. I'd love to hear about your comically-frustrating day! We can all commiserate and eat ripped up warm bread together.