A Comedy (?) of Errors

Have you ever felt that you had a little storm cloud over your head, pouring woe onto your freshly washed tresses? That would be my life this past week. I am remiss to do anything at all at this point since my every move has resulted in some calamity or another.

Let's begin with early last week. I am, by definition, a night owl, which means I usually sleep in come morning time; I'm talking 9:30-10ish. Any earlier and my inner bitch takes over for the day. At 7 am Tuesday morning the power went out, ceasing my fan that I require to stay in dreamland. Not a big deal, but I should have known this was a precursor for bigger, badder things to come.

The next morning at 3 am, my smoke alarm battery decided it was in its last throes and informed me every 30 seconds until I couldn't take it anymore. I reluctantly arose from bed and trudged into the living room to bash the living shit out it. I climbed onto the armchair in the corner so I could reach it and yank out the battery. Before I could dislodge said battery, my foot slipped off the arm, slid down the inside of the chair causing me to lurch sideways, falling into a painting on the wall, and knocking it and myself onto the ground. Mind you, I was stark naked during this entire episode. While I lay on the floor, the smoke alarm chirped again. Where is my hammer?!

The next evening (Thanksgiving) after dinner, I was putting some dishes away and managed to break the creamer from my mom's set of good china. I was pondering whether to tell her, but honesty won. Later that night, I took my helmet-shaped Redskins mug that I have owned for decades upstairs in a bag filled with water bottles to put in my fridge. I set the bag down, the bottles shifted, and the mug and one bottle crashed onto the floor, spewing ceramic and water everywhere. It took me several minutes to find the other water bottles; they had all fallen in the trashcan. I didn't even bother to clean it up; just threw a towel over the entire mess and went to bed.

The next night (yeah, we aren't at the end of this debacle yet), I put up a tiny tree with some of my favorite ornaments. It was still dark when I heard a crash. Another trip to the living room- the tree was laying sideways and one of my glass ornaments was smashed on the floor. Really?

The next day, a tray of seedlings I was growing fell off the bookcase in front of the window and got wedged between the bookcase and the glass. I managed to retrieve the tray, but have still yet to clean up the dirt. At this point, I'm like why bother?

So, we come to today. My dog, Dobby, woke me up at 6:30 am. Yay. I went downstairs with her to get my mom's dog, Chloe, and take them out. When we came back inside, Chloe decided to lay on top of the couch and barf on the floor. I couldn't figure out how she still had dry food nuggets in her belly since I hadn't fed her. They weren't her food, they were deer poops. Dozens of deer poop nuggets. Shit. Literally.

After cleaning up Chloe's disgusting choice of dog treats, I went out to fix the tree I had on the dock that had fallen over in the wind. I secured the tree with fishing line, very proud of my effort. Less than an hour later, I looked out and the tree was gone. Yes, it fell in the creek. Yes, it will remain there forever. I give up.

Things can only get better, right? I still have Christmas decorations to put up, but I fear that I may electrocute myself and catch the house on fire if I touch them. Only 30 more days for this nightmare year to be over. Happy December, everyone!