Dear Today:

I was just hoping that you and I could be friends, but I see now that you are just an evil little son of a bitch.

The positives of today are as follows:  said puking girl child woke up this morning as if she had never had her face in the toilet bowl and wanted to go to school; rockstar has play school today - enough said with that. 

So I realize that today is the last day I have to go pee in a cup for a drug test for a job that I have been told that I have (pending said drug test of course), but since I am sure I haven't smoked any pot or stuffed an eight-ball up my nose recently, I'm going to pass and start the job.  I figure I'll take girl child to school and drop rockstar off at his school and then make the 25 minute trek to the pee place.  How hard can this be, right?!

While driving girl child to school she informs me that it's pizza party day, and my mind goes quickly to last night's puking episode.  I tell her not to eat too much to which I get a quick reply of I won't to which I know that she will stuff her face full of pie (just as I would).  She gets out of the car and waves and blows kisses to me excited about her pizza party escapade.  I then bring rockstar to his play school which is at the high school.  *sigh*  Oh, the sights and sounds of teenagers bustling through the hallways; the too short skirts, the UGG boots with said too short skirts -- and while trying not to sound old, I just don't get that trend of a cold ass and legs but snuggly feet and ankles -- and let's not forget the F bombs being dropped around my toddler's ears.  Yeah, yeah, *MY* F bombs are much different than hallway echoing F bombs so don't even go there with me.  Rockstar heads straight for the sand table without so much as a kiss and I am off to my episode, and do you really think it didn't turn into some type of episode?

I decide as I'm driving that I suddenly have pee anxiety.  How do *I* have pee anxiety when I am constantly heading to the bathroom, I don't go to any playground that doesn't have a bathroom type thing, and my husband hates taking long drives with me for I will inevitably end up squatting behind a tree on the side of the highway or hovering over a random McDonald's toilet.  I digress, I now realize I have pee anxiety, and so I know that a coffee will most certainly help my situation.  While I'm in the convenience store I figure, hell, I didn't win the Mega Millions last night so I'll buy a ticket and some tic tacs for my bangin' coffee breath I'm sure to have in a few minutes.  Excuse me, but since when do I have to purchase a lottery ticket with cash only?!  I only have my debit card.  Insert sinking heart feeling here because I cannot purchase said lottery ticket that was printed out, and with my luck, I just know in my heart of hearts that THAT is the mother fuckin' winning ticket.  I just know it.  If I see that convenience store come up this weekend as the store that sold the winning ticket, I suggest you look for me on the news for I will have headed straight for the nearest bridge.  Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but I can't imagine the intense therapy I will need to get past this.  Regardless, I leave with my coffee, tic tacs and a pouty face.

I get on the road still downtrodden about this damn ticket that I just know is the winning ticket when I am grateful that said coffee is lukewarm so I can swill it down like a well-made margarita only that now I'm sad that this is not a well-made margarita.  I digress, yet again.  I'm on the highway when I am blinded by this bright yellow sign from [insert law firm I used to work for name here] and I almost go careening into the guardrail.  What a dick I think because that bastard couldn't pay me shit but can dole out hundreds, perhaps thousands, for a bright yellow ugly ass billboard, but then I think what a tricky smart move because how many people are going to get blinded like I was by such ugliness and crash into each other and lo and behold, there is that 800 number screaming at you to call now.  Hmm, well played dick lawyer, well played.

Now I realize my exit is coming up and I don't feel the need to pee yet.  How in the hell can this be happening?! I also realize that I am heading towards the state prison and oh dear lord am I going to be taking a piss test with a bunch of parolees.  Somebody save me.  I finally find the place, walk in and realize I'm all alone.  Oh good, let's just get this over with.  Some smiley girl from behind the window tells me to come back and do this and do that, and here's the cup and pee to this line and then we'll have you sign X, Y, Z and you can be on your way.  Oh good, I say, let's just hope I can give you the best pee of my life.  Whose phone rings while they're peeing in a cup the size of a Dixie cup?! *sigh*  Fast forward to I guess I don't know why I had pee anxiety because here, here, take this cup and let me get the hell out of here.

Sign this, sign that, give me this, take that, here's your ID, good luck, and I'm free.  For heaven's sakes get me out of here and back to my little hovel of an office before I have to go pick rockstar up from play school.  I'm driving home thinking about how it's all downhill from here because I have a lot of work to do today, which means I can hide in my office and talk to myself, and for once I am happy about this.  While I'm thinking how absolutely, positively lame I am I see a guy, on the highway, riding a bicycle.  Isn't that shit illegal?!  I think if I had the pick-up truck I'd have offered to take his ass to wherever the hell he was pedaling to the poor bastard, but with my luck I'd have been dumped into the river.

So I still didn't get my Mega Millions lottery ticket, but before I get into my workout pants and take off my bra, I suppose I should do just that, and I will try really hard not to hit up the liquor store before the end of my "work day."

*cheers my friends*