Every Little Thing

You ever have one of those weeks where every little thing feels like a catastrophe? Even though it really isn’t? But because it starts off crummy, things just snowball until you’re a big giant wet noodle? Guh. I hate those weeks.

  • furnace from the 1960s finally broke
  • four guys spent 12 hours working on it, only to realize 20 minutes after they left that it’s not kicking on?
  • the fumes from the not-working new furnace smell like new paint, hot oil, Sharpie markers, and cigarette smoke. HEADACHE.
  • dog puke
  • kid puke
  • mama puke
  • migraine (luckily sister Steph saved the day with Advil and Coca Cola Classic…which I think tastes like poison, but it certainly worked!)
  • single parenting for a bit
  • teeny tiny minor kid accident scare
  • no sleep…ok, there’s a little sleep, but *maybe* 3 hours at a time, tops. Humans aren’t meant to operate under these conditions, especially a human called NICOLE.

But I need to look on the bright side: I have Netflix Instant Watch (Twin Peaks and Portlandia FTW!), Grandparents who can watch the kiddos when the kiddos get rough, pink glittery nail polish, Starbucks gift cards, and a fire place. So really, what am I complaining about? Geesh.


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