I have a date tonight. With BJ. We're going for drinks after work. Haven't seen her in ages and I really need some girl time. Just sit around, drink some Guinness, criticize the other women in the pub and generally bitch about stuff.
I need this on so many levels. But this morning was the last straw. Let me just say: Camel. Back. Broken.
I was walking out the door and I realized I wasn't wearing my watch. "Two seconds!" I yell to The Husband, who's getting in the car. I run back inside, up the stairs to the bedroom and expect to see my watch on my dresser. Nope. Run to the den expecting to see it on the coffee table. Nope. Back downstairs to the kitchen and expect to see it on the table. Nope.
Damn! I don't have time to quest for the watch, so I run out to the car.
I know it's a small thing, but I absolutely HATE when I forget my watch. Now I'll need to know what time it is every 10 minutes. Grrrr!
I texted BJ from the GO Train platform. "Still on for today? I need an effin drink. And its only 7:15!"
My GO Train Buddy shows up while I'm texting. He has his grumpy face on. I give him grumpy face back. "Dude, don't even start with me today. I forgot my watch, I'm in a shitty mood." Which, of course, gets us rolling into our usual morning routine of one-upping the other with comments.
As we're pulling into Union Station, he glances at his watch. The natural reflex is for me to flip my wrist and look at my ... what? Arm hair? Freckles??
I drop my hand on my lap and give him the "This is going to be one of those days" looks.
He grins and mutters "Ha Ha!"
BJ ... we're still on for drinks right? Can we go NOW??!