A Small Victory: (expletives deleted)

(expletives deleted)

I picked a bad time to stop smoking. Let's have a recap of this day so far, ok?

DJ wakes up in a grumpy mood. It's now a battle of the grumpies, me and him. He's fighting me tooth and nail on everything I tell him to do (or not do). Finally, we come to a battle royale about ten minutes after we should have been out the door. I say something to him, he says something incredibly sarcastic back to me. I lean down to within an inch of his face.
"You want to get sarcastic with me?"
"Yeah!" he snarls.
"You do NOT want to get into a battle of sarcasm with me! I will wipe your ass with my sarcasm!"

What? What the hell did I just say to him? I have no idea where that came from or what it meant, but I give DJ a lot of credit for not laughing in my face.

So finally, after a battle over sock that didn't feel right, we get out the door and over to my mother's. Mom is an antagonistic mood today. She questions everything. Why is DJ wearing those pants to school? How come his hair doesn't looked combed? Didn't I realize that Honeycombs was not really a full breakfast for a growing kid? So now not only am I late for workm but I'm slowly moving from feelilng edgy to homicidal.

I walk out the door, but I still can't head to work yet. I have to drop my car off at the gas station for an alignment. My sister is meeting me there. Ten minutes ago. I get to the station, give the guy my keys, get all my belongings out of my car, and get into my sister's car. Two blocks away from the station, her check engine light goes on. The temperature needle moves all the way to Hot. I tell her to turn around, go back to the gas station, and we will switch cars. My alignment can wait another day. She says no, it's just a quirk. The car is fine. Mmhmm.

So we get to the babysitter's house to drop off my nephew. As soon as she turns off the engine, the car seems to expload in a hiss of steam. We jump out of the car, only to hear the sound of rushing water. Or anti-freeze. It's pouring out of the engine. Hiss. Splash. Hiss. Splash. Fuck. Bastard. Hiss. Splash.

Now the babysitter has to leave all the kids with her husband and drive us back to the gas station. I tell the guy I want my car back, and he should send someone to pick up my sister's car. And then, finally we are on our way to work. I kept reaching for my cigarettes, forgetting that I didn't have any.

The ride to work took about 15 more minutes than it usually does. Every idiot on the road was out, and they were all surrounding me. Finally, we pull into the parking lot. I am carrying my pocketbook, my backpack full of crap I take to work with me, my jacket and a bag from the store with water, milk and lunch. I struggle into the door. They ask me for my ID. The people I see every day, twelve times a day, the people who know my name and my kids' names and way too much about me need to see my ID, which is at the bottom of the backpack. I put everything down, rummage around until I find the ID, and when I dangle it in front of me to show that I have it, the actual person who asked to see it is walking down the hallway, completely uninterested in the identification he just asked for. I pick everything up again and then wait ten minutes for the elevator.

Finally, in my office. Turn on the computer. Put everything down. Go through mail. Make coffee. Sit down and breathe for a few minutes before I begin working. No. They are everywhere, on the phone, standing in my doorway, sending me email. Missing files, adjourned dates that no one knew about, conferences that never happened, misnumbered papers...it wouldn't end. And it's only 10:00 at this point. The whole day stretches out before me like hell before Dante.

I did not cave in. I did not smoke. I have eaten a whole box of Triscuits. I have had 16 cups of coffee. I have said words that would make Chris Rock blush. But I have not smoked.

Yet the questions remain: Are clean lungs and a fatter wallet worth my sanity? And who suffers more when I quit smoking, me or the people around me? Will someone get sick of my bitching and general crankiness and kill me before I have the chance to murder a random stranger who is making a left turn without using his blinker?

Answers? Anyone? Bueler?

A Small Victory

(expletives deleted)

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