Some days are better than others. Yesterday started out awesome. We had a nacho luncheon at work, which is exactly what it sounds like; everyone brought an ingredient for nachos and we stuffed our faces. It rocked.
Then on the way home the cable guy called and asked if he could come EARLY to install cable and internet. Um, YES. So I get home and he's there tinkering around outside. Then he comes in and tinkers around inside for a while. There's a minor issue that he has to call in about, but he makes sure the internet is working and leaves.
Then I realize he never checked to make sure the cable was working, so I turned on the TV and, I know you're shocked, but all I got was fuzz. WAH. So I looked behind the TV and he never actually hooked up the cable from the wall to the television. And since the cable ran from the wall to my modem, I couldn't hook it up to the TV. There are two cable outlets and I have an extra cable wire, so I checked the other one, but sure enough it didn't work.
So I'm on the phone with the cable company and Punkin decides to flip out about something, probably food related, and the woman thinks I'm an idiot. I tell her that the guy never hooked up the cable to my television, he only hooked it up from the wall to my modem and she of course asks, "Well, did he leave any cable behind?"
"No, but I do have some."
"Is there a place on the back of your TV to plug it in?"
Of course now is when Punkin starts banging in frustration on the wall. "Of course there is, but I can't plug the cable in to my TV because the cable wire is going to my modem. I would have to unplug my modem."
"Well, I'm not asking you to do that."
I take Punkin to his room and he begins screaming. "In my other apartment, I think I had a splitter for the cable wire so part of it went to the TV and part of it went to my modem."
"Can you check the other outlets?"
"The other outlets?" At this point I have no idea why she is asking me to check the other outlets, as Punkin is yelling, "I BROKE IT! IS BROKEN!" and I can't concentrate on the woman on the phone who thinks I'm an idiot. I walk into his room to see the curtain rod dangling from the wall, bent to the point of being unusable, and his face covered in tears.
"Maybe there was just some misunderstanding and that's why those other outlets weren't activated."
"No. My main TV is not hooked up. It's not the additional outlets. It's my main TV."
"If you would just check those other outlets for me because sometimes they are left there but aren't activated."
I am literally carrying my small TV from my room to Punkin's room, plugging it in, and plugging in the cable cord. "There are four other outlets."
"Yes. This one works. It's my main TV." Somehow I get us back on track and I tell her again that the cable is running from the wall to the modem, but not to my television. "There's another cable outlet here next to the other one but it doesn't work. There is currently no way to run the cable from the wall to my TV without unplugging my modem."
"The other one doesn't work."
"Ok. So you need a splitter."
"Okay, I will send someone out but it may not be until Tuesday from 8-10am."
So I hang up and rush to hang the curtains from my room in Punkin's room, get a pizza in the oven, and take a shower before respite arrives. And then I feed Punkin the pizza. And then I clean up the pizza. And then I decide to double-check the schedule and, yes, the worker was to arrive a half an hour earlier. I call the respite agency and the woman there cannot reach the worker who is supposed to be at my house. She said she would try to send someone else, but most likely would not be able to find anyone. So much for a girls' night out that I've been planning for a month. WAH.
I try unplugging the cable from the modem and plugging it into the television so that we can watch cartoons, but the picture is terrible. Looks like there's going to be a bigger issue than a splitter. WAH.
So I eat some pizza and call my dad to whine. He brings me beer and after entertaining Punkin, which may have saved Punkin's life and me some jail time, we put Punkin to bed and watch Napoleon Dynamite.
Everything is right again with the world until 7:30 am when my son is running away from me in WalMart and his pants fall down. And instead of stopping to pull them UP, he slows slightly to pull DOWN his tighty whities. The woman who caught sight of him before I yelled, "PUNKIN!" and he yanked them back up was not very amused. Punkin, however, held his hand up to his mouth and snickered the entire way back to the cleaning section when he grabbed a mop and ran away from me a second time. That time I chased him, as I didn't know where the mop might end up.
So now it's about 8:00am and I need to stop by Target to buy a puzzle rack because no one else sells them. We manage to survive that experience with most of our dignity and make way towards his doctor's office to pick up the one thing we REALLY need -- his prescription for Ritalin, of which we currently have one dose.
It's 8:32am and I'm being told that they do not have the paper copy nor computer record of his prescription for Ritalin. The nurses working there are not the usual staff, so there's some lack of understanding about what I even need and what can be done to remedy the problem. WAH.
And then it happens. Just as I'm about to lose it completely -- tears and everything -- a third person checks the box and finds that the magical piece of paper has been there the entire time. Or maybe God knew I was about to break and just made one appear. Either way, we got what we needed. I looked at her and said, "It's an ADHD miracle!"
So on the way out of Target I snagged some Dove dark chocolates, the ones with the promises written inside. On the way home I opened it and it read, "Celebrate life's small victories." Indeed, Dove. Indeed. I mean, he DID pull his pants up when I told him to. And he laughed about it, which means he knew it was socially inappropriate. Add that to the prescription miracle and the fact that we're getting our entire $500 deposit on our last apartment refunded and I'd say we're doing all right.