I’ve never been a huge hater of Mondays, mostly because that’s when The Bachelor/Bachelorette is on and also because a lot of Sundays I don’t change out of my pajamas so showers are always something I look forward to. Speaking of lack of showering, did you all only bathe on Wednesdays and Sundays growing up? I’m not sure what part of my parents thought that this was a good and sterile idea because when I look at kids these days after two hours of not bathing they are disgusting. Anyhow, I am still alive [barely after yesterday but that’s a story for the next paragraph] and so I will embrace my 104 baths every year that I received from ages 0-14.
Where were we? Oh yes, Mondays. Mine started just like most – actually better than most. The sun was pouring through the windows, the house was all picked up, I had candles burning listening to the latest and greatest Bieber and knocking things off my to-do list before 8:30 am. Heck, I even posted this picture listing all of my weekly goals because I was very much in one of those “I am a woman, hear me roar” type of moods, whatever that actually means.
It was approximately twenty minutes later when I headed out for the day and that’s where it started to get a little dicey. About a minute from my house that delicious coffee I was sipping on made its way down the front of my shirt. Fortunately I am used to this happening so eh’, no big deal really. I thought about turning around to go home and change but then I remembered I would be near a Target and buying a new shirt seemed a lot more logical and economical than putting on something from my closet that I already own. Onward soldier.
It was from there that I made my way to the local grocery store’s cardboard recycling dumpsters. I had a backseat full of boxes that I needed to get rid of so get rid of I did. Here I am, car empty of boxes, cruising along feelin’ pretty good when all of a sudden I thought “CRAP. I JUST THREW A NEW PAIR OF SHOES AWAY INTO THAT RECYCLING BIN THAT I MEANT TO RETURN!” Within seconds I whipped it into high gear, zipped that car right back around and headed back to the grocery store to do a little dumpster diving. By this point I was starting to get a little irritated with how things had been going since leaving the house, but still optimistic that this was the end of the minor mishaps.
Rushing like a wild chicken I pull up to the recycling bin and jump out of my car to make my way head first into the dumpster to retrieve my shoes that I thought for sure had to be in there. Upon jumping out of my car I thought to myself “huh, that felt a little odd getting out..” but kept on carrying about my ways. Not a second later I’m looking down into the dumpster only to notice my car moving out of my peripheral vision. “NOOOOOOOOOOO!” is what I believe came out of my mouth while I watched in slow motion my car find its way head first into one of the other pretty recycling bins.
So that was fun.
Turns out my shoes were safe and sound at home and while the red does dress up the front of my car nicely, the hole that is now there isn’t super cute.
It’s okay though guys. From there I found my way to Panera Bread to sit down, settle and collect my thoughts. Things were starting to look up again…until I looked down.
The real moral of the story of here today folks is this – never return shoes. And I mean never.
