Alright, so I made it through the last week of building the new playroom in our basement, and then the following week preparing for and hosting an oversized birthday party for our 5 year old. He chose the theme "Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs", the movie version, so I had to make the invitations, decorations, and make up games that went along with the theme myself since the movie was out several years ago, so there is nothing pre-made to buy. It took me many hours, but the party was great. All the kids had a blast, especially my son. I will have to put up some pictures of how we pulled this thing off, maybe a little later in the week.
However, doing all these things back to back ("these things" which include painting for 26 hours, 13 straight on Saturday and 13 straight on Sunday, for example) can lead to some serious exhaustion. I figured I'd crash and burn on Sunday and be back to kicking ass Monday morning.... however, Sunday I cleaned up from the party, briefly put my feet up, and then crashed and burned on Monday... literally. I literally drove my car through my garage, into my house. Oh yes, I am THAT moron who could be so stupid (or so very exhausted that her brains don't work well enough to remind her which pedal is the gas pedal vs the brake pedal). I haven't talked about it with anyone but who needed to know until this point, mostly because I'm deeply ashamed and embarrassed, but this blog has always been my therapy. A place where I can write for myself, and be honest about whatever crap happens to me. Unfortunately, this time, I caused it myself.
Yesterday I mostly cried. Today I mostly cried, but I did find a smile or two, and even a laugh. Last night my husband did get me to laugh, too, when he explained to our friends who could fix our car "She pulled in to the garage. Really in." Then the jokes about not being able to wait to get into the house to be down in the new playroom started... and so on. Now we just explain that I turned our house into a drive through... hence the selling burgers.
So what happened? Well I was, indeed, exhausted. I had even called someone earlier in the day and complained about it to them. So, it's on record. haha But that mixed with waiting in a tiny, dirty waiting room with my kids for over an hour, as they slowly started to lose their mind, my one kid's lip splitting open and bleeding all over that waiting room, and my toddler rolling around on the vet's office's dirty floor, finding out our cat has 2 subluxed (halfway dislocated) wrists which will cost hundreds of dollars to fix, then topping it off with our kids squeaking squeaker toys behind my head all the way home, I was stressed beyond stress (to the point where my eye... like the sclera, the white part, started to bleed, and yes stress causes that), and all of that mixed with being nearly too tired to keep my eyes open, I rolled into the garage, and when I was in far enough, hit the brake... only it wasn't the brake. I instantly realized my mistake and hit the REAL brake before I hit the wall, but it was too late after stomping on the gas. So, into the trashcans I went, and into my hallway in the house one of them went. Total mortification, very frightening and upsetting, and so sad that I broke my damn house and messed up my brand new car. I keep thinking I'll wake up from this dream and realize it was just that I was sleeping, and that's why I was so tired and that's why terrible things were happening, it was just a nightmare.
But, luckily for us, we have good friends and family who immediately came to the rescue, and we got estimates (the car only had one small , like 2 inch, dent and several scratches that almost all buffed out), and while I did knock out some studs, they are not broken. So they just need pushed back and the drywall fixed.
So, if you're one of the unfortunate ones who have to know me in my real life, if I don't seem myself, or I have creepy blood-tinged vampire eyes, now you know what is going on. I am not myself because I'm sad. There is just not too many other ways to put that. I am sad. I am sad and embarrassed. I still have no idea how I made this mistake. Maybe some Xanax or hard liquor would help solve that mystery... or at least make me not care about that mystery for a little while. And, no... I had not been drinking nor had I even taken allergy medication, let alone anything else. It was just pure, ridiculous me, being the calamity that I am. Rest assured that you are all safe while I'm out driving on the road, unless you look like a garage.. in that case, pull over and just let me pass! Oh, and would you like fries with that?
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