There's no other way of putting it: today was really shitty. My morning wasn't so bad, but I should have enjoyed it while it lasted because it was all down hill from there. Shortly after I got to school this morning I was feeling those old familiar pains in my lower abdomen that we ladies love so much. Sure enough I went to the bathroom and just what is suspected, as my friend Jennifer says, it was time for my moon. Luckily, I had come to school prepared so no biggie. But that wasn't the end of it. Today was our last day of state math assessments and when all my kids finished and I got our results back it was not good. 9 of my kids didn't pass. NINE! I knew I would have a few that probably wouldn't make it, but nine?!? I was so bummed out. As a teacher, when your kids don't do well on that stupid test you feel totally responsible. My friends kept telling me, and I kept reminding myself that we had a new math program this year, the 4th grade test is a lot harder than the 3rd, it was my first time teaching 4th grade math, and as we all know state assessments are not a good indicator of what students actually know. Those words and thoughts helped temporarily, but I spent most of the rest of the day pouting about it. Once school was out and I had survived that day I thought that maybe things would start looking up. Not so much. I went tanning and to Zumba after school and that went fine, but dinner tonight was a near disaster. I was trying out a new recipe Orange-Ginger Beef Stir Fry. When I was getting the water to cook the rice I thought that maybe I had too much, but figured it was fine. Sure enough when it was time to dish everything out the rice was gummy. I was super disappointed. I wanted it to be a good dinner and now the rice was gross. Brian said, "Don't worry. It will be fine." So we got the food into to bowls and I went to get a drink. I decided I wanted lemonade. I got the pitcher out on the counter, a glass down from the cabinet, but as I turned to get ice from the freezer I knocked the pitcher with my elbow and the whole thing fell to the floor. Legs and feet soaked with lemonade, I turned to Brian, looked a the ceiling and bit my lip. "I will not cry. I will not cry." But what happened? I bawled like a baby. I literally cried over spilled lemonade. I was so freaking frustrated. It seemed like nothing was going right today. God bless Brian. He held me in the middle of a lemonade puddle and let me sob into his chest. He kissed my forehead and said, "Why don't you take the food to the back porch and I'll clean this up." I nodded and gathered the bowls and went outside.
We had a nice dinner together and the stir fry wasn't bad, even with gummy rice. We talked about our plans for the weekend and what we would cook next week. I started to feel better.
Now the floor has been cleaned twice but is still a little sticky. I don't care. I'm not doing it again. The dinner dishes are cleaned and put away. I'm laying on the couch and am going to try to cure what is left of my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day with the 2 things known to woman that work the best: ice cream and a musical.
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