If it weren't for the Season 4 premiere of Grey's Anatomy, I do believe I would consider this entire week to be a bust. As it is, I'm hanging on by my fingernails, and the only reason I don't let go is because I keep telling myself there is light at the end of the tunnel (that being a new season of Grey's).
I don't know about you, but I think that my car breaking down in the parking lot of Safeway with a trunk full of groceries (some of which were frozen at one time), a dog fight in my very own kitchen (ending with a little dog that can't move or control her bladder and a big dog that is banned to the kennel), three trips to the doctor's office, a kazillion phone calls to the insurance company, two nights sleeping on the floor by the dog bed, and an entire afternoon spent in the Principal's office at the high school (John made it all of seventeen days this school year before getting sent to see the principal, whereby I ended up being called at home to join him, thus spending three hours of my life defending my son and begging for help from the administration).... I think these things justify rating the week as very bad.
When the guidance counselor at the high school saw me, she said that things could only get better. I'd like to believe her, but I think the only reason she said that was because I was close to tears as I walked into her office looking like something the cat drug home... I had dog fur and dog sick all over me. My shorts had a hole in the seat, and I was wearing an old tee shirt that has "Scrap Girl" printed across the boobs (tacky, to say the least). I had not showered and my legs need shaved. My hair is greasy and my eyes are swollen. My fingernails are chipped and my ponytail was falling out. Needless to say, I did not present myself in the most appealing manner, nor did I look like a mother who had her act together. But, hey! I was there, just as I was summoned, because that's what a mother does - she sets aside all aspects of dignity and vanity and she runs at breakneck speed when her child is in need. So there I was. Take it or leave it. And now I'm home. I still want to cry. But I'm afraid if I let myself do that I will fall apart, and that would mean that I would miss enjoying the one season premiere I have been waiting for all summer long.
Thank God for Grey's Anatomy. At this moment in time, it's all that is keeping me hanging on, because to be quite frank, it's been a very, very bad week.