Hubby doesn't realize it but he's throwing me curve balls everyday.
Today, I told him that the project I was working on this week is put on hold because the person I'm working with is in the hospital. His wife is in
labor. So this should give me a good two days.
Free and clear of having to pretend I'm not using the car (yes, he looked at the odometer and for a brief moment looked a bit confused about the mileage.), I
picked up the first round of items at the office and then drove to the school to drop off the deposit and do a last count on tables.
My first snag was completely blanking out on my pin number and having to go to the bank's customer service to reset it. But that was minor. I
finalized the school (I'm either getting older or high school boys are getting younger. I think it's the later.), counted the tables (19) and was signing
the agreement for the cake when hubby called.
h: I might need you to pick me up.
pg: when? everything ok?
h: Well, I might need you to pick me up and drive a few people home.
pg: sure but why?
h: The rains shut down service on the subway.
Ok, if you weren't in the Tri-State area, you didn't see the massive flood or the giant ark that floated by Central Avenue. The skies opened up like it
was watching 'Beaches'. XM Radio kicks ass though, cause they had all the major closings for traffic and transit.
So now, I have to pick up my husband and his colleagues. Costco must wait until tomorrow.
Back to the cake, it's an ice cream from Carvel. Of course it had to be custom made. Hubby doesn't prefer the vanilla part of the standard Carvel
cake. So now I've got a custom cake all chocolate with tons of chocolate crunchies with both his name and his sisters name on the inscription. I
told the guy, "This cake is for a guy. Please no flowers or other frillies." I hope he also interpreted that as a guy that isn't under 12.
Cause if a cowboy is emblazoned on it, I'm in trouble.
I had just enough time to go to the party supply store and then drop off the stuff at muthafunga's. As I was deciding b/w the paper or plastic tablecloths, I
realized I hadn't gone to the bathroom all day. To add to the urgency my bladder felt, the downpour outside was teasing me. I quickly grabbed a
pack of forks and what not and went to the register to pay. One register and the slowest teenager alive. I was about to slide over the counter and
swipe my own credit card in the machine. I ran to the car and decided I couldn't make it to my brother's without going but we were in the
middle of boonyville. Plus, after my experience with the bathroom in Mickey Dee's on Broadway, I was weary of any public loos. So I drove to
cross county figuring I need to eat, pee and get wrapping paper. [This probably will be my epitaph: She ate, she peed, she bought wrapping
paper.]
Get to the strip mall and book to the Burger King. Surprisingly, the bathrooms were in good shape. Good enough to do what I had to do. I
grabbed a kids meal and ran to the card shop where another slow processing teen couldn't understand why I brought two bows to the counter but only wanted one.
hallmark: So you want the blue one with the price on it.
pg: No. I want the red one without the price on it. That's why I
brought you the blue one to scan.
hallmark: He he. So you want the blue one.
I made it to my mom's just in time to drop the stuff off and scarf down my cheeseburger.
Now, we all know I'm always looking to feed people. Well, I sort of get it from my mother. Now I'm not saying I'm like my mom. That's too
scary to say or admit. But let's just say, I know where the trait comes from.
pg's mom: You want me to make noodles for you?
pg: No time. Have to go pick up hubby and his co-workers.
pgmom: ok. You want ribs?
pg: No thanks mom.
pgmom: Duck?
pg: Duck? No thanks mom. Have to go.
So aside from the curveball of chauffeuring, I think I did ok.
Tomorrow is crunch day. Costco, Grill and what other zaniness that arises.
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Weather forecast:
ny1: 80's sunny
nbc: Upper 70's mostly sunny
weather.com: 78 degrees partly cloudy
