|Me yesterday. (Source.)|
Yesterday was just A DAY. Storms came through at about 4 a.m., and although my scaredy-dog didn’t climb into bed and try to bury her head in the pillows, she still paced around our bedroom enough that her nails clicking on the hardwood kept me awake for a while. I was definitely NOT ready to get out of bed when my alarm went off a few hours later.
I had to drop my car off at the dealership early and take the shuttle to work, so I didn’t get to drink quite as much coffee as usual before I left the house. Plus, I burned the heck out of the roof of my mouth Saturday, so I was crabbier and more irritable than usual all day. And it hurts to eat on that side of my mouth. Ugh.
I was seriously debating skipping my recovery swim and going home for a nap after work, but it was a beautiful day and I knew a swim would do me good. Even my husband, who tends to lean toward suggesting rest over pushing through a workout, was telling me to suck it up and go get a quick swim done. FINE. I headed to the pool instead of home, fighting through rush hour traffic. I headed to the locker room bathroom and started going through my bag.
And then it hit me. Did I put my swimsuit in my bag?
I searched. No swimsuit. I shook out my towels. No swimsuit. I called my husband and made him check the bathroom and bedroom. Sure as you-know-what, he reported back that I had one swimsuit hanging up in the bathroom and one on the floor of my closet. Which means that I had zero left in my bag.
RAGE SMASH HULK FIRE
More than anything, I was furious with myself. I had driven all the way out to the pool for nothing when I was having a crabby day to begin with. But there was nothing I could do except head home. In protest, I curled up on the couch with the mutts and read for a while before starting dinner. I did do a bit of stretching later, but I was NOT in a good mental space for any kind of real workout.
I put both swimsuits in my bag so this won’t happen next time. Ugh! What a way to end a Monday.