Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Just One of Those Days...

You ever have one of those days where everything seems to go wrong from the word, Go?

Like today.

During my morning quiet time, I fell asleep while praying. One moment, I'm talking to God, the next I'm jerking awake to the sound of my husband Turbo Jam-ing it in the living room. Then, on my way to work, same afore-mentioned husband calls me on my cell phone to ask if our daughter was supposed to have tights on with her skirt...needless to say she's tights-less and sock-less in dress shoes and I'm expecting a call from Children's Protective Services any moment now. Oh, did I forget to mention he didn't lotion her down, either? And, of course, there's work. Since I am not yet a published writer--and need my job--I'll just say the left bathroom stall has become my place of worship to pray for patience...and tolerance...and Valium...

I say all of this not just to complain--well, not entirely--but to lift my eyes to the hills from where comes my help and say, Thank you, God! Because if it wasn't for days like this, I would have zero material for my manuscripts.

While in reality I dozed on God (doesn't that sound so incredibly...I don't know...sacrilegious??), in my story the heroine would fall asleep and find herself visited by a very HAWT spirit who implores her to help him solve the murder resulting in his current ghostly state. Flip page. After dealing with a grueling day at work, my geeky-desperately-in-need-of-a-makeover-heroine receives a call notifying her that the great aunt she knew nothing about recently died and left her an inheritance that includes a manor house in the English countryside...complete with a gorgeous gardener who curiously resembles Colin Farrell.

And, in yet another story, I would say that the heroine's husband has flowers delivered to her job, begging for forgiveness and finally admitting that, Yes, he does understand why sending their little girl to school with bare, ashy legs in black patent leather shoes is a bad thing, but...Hey, I may be a fiction writer, but even I'm not that good!


JoAnn said...

Naima, I'm pretty sure God understands. I'm also pretty sure that God forgives mothers an awful lot, because, well, He just understands!

When my girls were 5 and 8, I had to travel for my job. And of course, school pictures were going to be taken when I was out of town. So I pulled out the dresses for their pictures and left my husband explicit instructions. So I call that night. Me: How did picture day go? Hub: Fine. Me: Did they wear the dresses I put out? Hub: Yes. Me: Did you let [the 8-year-old] choose a bow for her hair? Hub: Yes. Me thinks "Well, okay, this sounds good."

Fast forward a month later: The pictures come home from school, I open them, and gasp. The youngest is in the cute red sundress I had put out for her WITH AN OLD WHITE T-SHIRT UNDERNEATH. When I questioned Hubb, he said "Well, it was cold that morning. I knew you wouldn't want her to be cold!" Then I look at 8-year-old's pix. The bow in her hair was one that I thought we had lost years ago. It was huge, ratty, dirty, and apparently had been hiding at the bottom of her toy box. When I questioned Hub about this one, he replied "Well, you SAID to let her choose a bow. How was I supposed to know this one was off limits?"

Actually, now that my girls are grown, I really love those two pix!


MaryF said...

I truly understand your day. This week has been an exceptionally trying time.

I love your creative flair on how you can turn your bad day into something fun for fiction....

Diane Richmond said...


JoAnn's story about her kid's pictures reminded me of the year when my kids wanted new shirts before they were having their school pictures taken. I was up against a deadline and had worked around the clock for two days, going home only to shower and catch a couple of hours sleep. My husband did double duty with the boys. Realizing that it was the night before the pictures were due I stopped on the way home and bought two very overpriced t-shirts at the only store that was open. I left the shirts for the boys with a note that said that I hadn't forgotten, I loved them and I hoped that they liked the shirts. Then I left for work before they woke with promises to pick them up after school.

After school I drove them home and we enjoyed our first dinner together in 4 days. It wasn't until the next day that I realized that they had been wearing the shirts I had purchased with their own brand of subtle alterations. They had cut off the sleeves and the neck and placed strategic slash marks on them so that they looked like their favorite grunge band. Horrified, I asked them what they had said at school about how they dressed. They looked at me innocently and told me that they just told the teacher that they hadn't seem me for 3 days and this was the best thing that they could find to wear. No telling what type of mother the teacher thought I was, but I bet it wasn't good.

So..., you had the right thought. Give yourself some credit for trying to fit it all in, trying to do your best and just see the humor when it doesn't come out the way you planned.