It’s a term Brian and I have used since our dating days.
It’s meant to describe one of those no-good-very-bad days where you encounter an obstacle at every part of your day. Nothing earth-shattering wrong--just a pile of inconveniences that you could easily absorb one-at-a-time, but they all seem to have fallen on the same day. A day like: you wake up not feeling well, your car has a flat tire when you go to leave in the morning, the grocery store is out of the very one ingredient you went for and someone rams you in the back of your leg with a grocery cart, you stepped in gum and got it on the rug of your car, you forgot your homework assignment that was due in class that day, a cashier gives you the wrong amount of change and you don’t realize it until 30 minutes after you’ve left the store, the dry-cleaner just happens to be closed on the day you absolutely needed that skirt, etc. You get the drift.
Brian minted the term after having one of these days in law school. I don’t remember the specifics of his bad day, but after telling me a long list of woes that he had encountered that day, he caps it off with, “I went to the soda machine to get a Coke—I put my money in and a Coke comes out. I pick it up and realize that the outside of the can is sticky. That Coke can basically sums up my day.” And so the term was adopted.
I do have good things to blog about, like my birthday and such, but today is one of those sticky Coke-can days and I need to vent.
After having a run of the stomach bug in our house the last 10 days, I finally thought Ella was over it and am excited to FINALLY put her back in school today since she made it through all of yesterday and last night without throwing up. I am happily humming a tune while packing her lunch this morning, only to hear her vomiting in the bathroom.
At least Samantha has pre-school this morning, I think. I pull her out of her crib and see snot running out of her nose. I look the other way and pretend it’s not there while I wash her face. I am bound and determined to get her to pre-school. Think bad thoughts about me all you want as the parent who put their snotty-nosed kid in pre-school, but when you’ve been hunkered down with sick kids (and yes, my kids are immunized against the Swine flu), and her pre-school is just one day a week, you just don’t care about being that parent. Plus, she couldn’t miss her Halloween party today, right?
I manage to get clothes on a lethargic, slow-moving, sick Ella and push the girls out of the door. I go to pick up my keys and realize Brian has taken the wrong set with him to work, which has the only available van key. I am able to open the van, and get Sam’s car seat out and put it in the pick-up. The girls and I scrunch in while Ella complains that she’s squished in the middle. This has changed my visiting teaching plans for the morning and I call my teachee on the way to tell her that my kid is sick and can’t make it, but I want to drop off a Halloween treat. I head towards taking Sam to pre-school, but Brian calls to say he is metroing back to swap keys with me, because he really needs his work keys and can I meet him at the Bethesda station in 15 minutes?
Ella relishes in being the only kid at home while Sam is at school. She miraculously springs back to life and instead of reading quietly on the couch as I had pictured, she wants to play board games because “being sick is fun cause I get all the attention. Usually Sam gets all the attention.” With a statement like that how do you turn around and do your normal morning clean-up routine? Board games it was.
Meanwhile, I think my boss is mad at me for being late to a meeting last night because it apparently takes 90 minutes to travel 22 miles to Dupont Circle in the pouring rain during rush hour and I had only allotted myself 60 minutes. At least I can put Ella in front of a movie and work on my report to redeem myself while Sam naps.
Except Sam decided napping wasn’t on her agenda today. She screamed bloody murder, threw her animals and baby doll overboard, making her scream louder. It became very clear that no report was going to get done today. And so, dishes still sit in my sink, laundry has yet to be put away from Monday’s washing, and the refrigerator is still empty so dinner plans are a mystery. And I have another meeting tonight that I better not be late to.
However, my sanity thanks my two children who are currently playing independently, with not a peep of disagreement or injury, so that I can write this post.
It’s meant to describe one of those no-good-very-bad days where you encounter an obstacle at every part of your day. Nothing earth-shattering wrong--just a pile of inconveniences that you could easily absorb one-at-a-time, but they all seem to have fallen on the same day. A day like: you wake up not feeling well, your car has a flat tire when you go to leave in the morning, the grocery store is out of the very one ingredient you went for and someone rams you in the back of your leg with a grocery cart, you stepped in gum and got it on the rug of your car, you forgot your homework assignment that was due in class that day, a cashier gives you the wrong amount of change and you don’t realize it until 30 minutes after you’ve left the store, the dry-cleaner just happens to be closed on the day you absolutely needed that skirt, etc. You get the drift.
Brian minted the term after having one of these days in law school. I don’t remember the specifics of his bad day, but after telling me a long list of woes that he had encountered that day, he caps it off with, “I went to the soda machine to get a Coke—I put my money in and a Coke comes out. I pick it up and realize that the outside of the can is sticky. That Coke can basically sums up my day.” And so the term was adopted.
I do have good things to blog about, like my birthday and such, but today is one of those sticky Coke-can days and I need to vent.
After having a run of the stomach bug in our house the last 10 days, I finally thought Ella was over it and am excited to FINALLY put her back in school today since she made it through all of yesterday and last night without throwing up. I am happily humming a tune while packing her lunch this morning, only to hear her vomiting in the bathroom.
At least Samantha has pre-school this morning, I think. I pull her out of her crib and see snot running out of her nose. I look the other way and pretend it’s not there while I wash her face. I am bound and determined to get her to pre-school. Think bad thoughts about me all you want as the parent who put their snotty-nosed kid in pre-school, but when you’ve been hunkered down with sick kids (and yes, my kids are immunized against the Swine flu), and her pre-school is just one day a week, you just don’t care about being that parent. Plus, she couldn’t miss her Halloween party today, right?
I manage to get clothes on a lethargic, slow-moving, sick Ella and push the girls out of the door. I go to pick up my keys and realize Brian has taken the wrong set with him to work, which has the only available van key. I am able to open the van, and get Sam’s car seat out and put it in the pick-up. The girls and I scrunch in while Ella complains that she’s squished in the middle. This has changed my visiting teaching plans for the morning and I call my teachee on the way to tell her that my kid is sick and can’t make it, but I want to drop off a Halloween treat. I head towards taking Sam to pre-school, but Brian calls to say he is metroing back to swap keys with me, because he really needs his work keys and can I meet him at the Bethesda station in 15 minutes?
Ella relishes in being the only kid at home while Sam is at school. She miraculously springs back to life and instead of reading quietly on the couch as I had pictured, she wants to play board games because “being sick is fun cause I get all the attention. Usually Sam gets all the attention.” With a statement like that how do you turn around and do your normal morning clean-up routine? Board games it was.
Meanwhile, I think my boss is mad at me for being late to a meeting last night because it apparently takes 90 minutes to travel 22 miles to Dupont Circle in the pouring rain during rush hour and I had only allotted myself 60 minutes. At least I can put Ella in front of a movie and work on my report to redeem myself while Sam naps.
Except Sam decided napping wasn’t on her agenda today. She screamed bloody murder, threw her animals and baby doll overboard, making her scream louder. It became very clear that no report was going to get done today. And so, dishes still sit in my sink, laundry has yet to be put away from Monday’s washing, and the refrigerator is still empty so dinner plans are a mystery. And I have another meeting tonight that I better not be late to.
However, my sanity thanks my two children who are currently playing independently, with not a peep of disagreement or injury, so that I can write this post.
Good thing caffeine intake is prohibited these days with maniac girl #3 in utero. Cause my Coke would have definitely turned up sticky today.
5 comments:
So sorry...I hate days like that! Hopefully tomorrow is a better day! Sorry I'm not around the corner to help! Miss you guys!
Ouch! That does sound like a terrible, no good, very bad day! Hope you have NO more sticky Coke days. I hate those!
I've had many a day like that. I didn't know you were working. I guess I missed that post. I hope your kids get well soon. I'm impressed that you got the vaccine. We can only get it here if we stand in a line of 3000 people. The day we went it was POURING rain and we gave up before we even got into the line.
Sorry to hear you had such a lousy day Jana. Wish I could be there for you. Hopefully everyone is on the mend!
What a great phrase. I love it.
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