Comedy of errors
Saturday, April 29, 2023
Sometimes I feel like I’m on the Truman Show.
This morning, I was texted with Amanda when she suggested we meet for coffee. Which my answer is always, yes. Today is the boyfriend’s son’s actual birthday, but he’s going to his mom’s. So, I gave the boyfriend his son’s gift, since he’s teenage boy and doesn’t wake up before noon unless he has to, check on my daughter (still sleeping), and walked around the corner to Starbucks.
When it comes to “mom break” with Amanda, it can last for a while. We tend to fall into conversation and completely lose track of time. I had a hair appointment today, so I had to keep checking my watch. We talked about her daughter having to (reluctantly) move up to Varsity, since our starting pitcher broke her hand last game. I went into full detail about the huge, almost relationship ending, argument with the boyfriend. In the end, we wound up starting to plan a “mom’s weekend” in Vegas to see Thunder from Down Under. Don’t judge. We’re women in our early 40’s. These shows were MADE for us. The boyfriend is not going to be happy about this. Oh well. He’ll live.
Speaking of the boyfriend, he sent me a text asking if I had my keys. He was taking his kids out to lunch with his brother before dropping them off. He was leaving my daughter since he also has a hair appointment and they probably wouldn’t be back in time. Anytime he leaves, and just one or more of the kids are home, he locks our bedroom door. Don’t ask why, because I’m not entirely sure. Well, since I only took my phone, seeing as how I walked around the corner, and I use the Starbucks app, I left my purse in our bedroom. So no, I did not have my keys. I told him as much.
As I was saying goodbye to Amanda, and starting to walk home, I checked my phone to see three missed calls and 5 missed texts from my daughter, all within the span of 5 minutes. Knowing she’s home alone, and thinking something may happen, I quickened my pace and called her back. “Mom! Where are you!” Me, “I am walking home from having coffee with Amanda. What’s going on?” She then berated me for leaving and not letting her know where I was and not immediately picking up the phone or texting her back. I then reminded her that she was, in fact, not the mother. I am. I swear, I don’t know how she’s going to handle it when she’s at college. She’s going to have some kind of tracking device implanted into me, I just know it.
When I got home, I discovered that the boyfriend locked our bedroom door, even after I told him I didn’t have the keys. We had 30 minutes until our appointment, and even though it’s only 5 minutes away, I was starting to panic. I texted him. I called him. He didn’t answer. The irony of that, was not lost on me. It took my daughter calling his daughter to tell him to pick up the phone, for him to realize what happened. He rushed home, and we were only 2 minutes late. I hate being late. I does nothing to help my anxiety.
After getting Panera for a late lunch, we went home just in time for my kiddo to get ready for her dad to pick her up. The boyfriend’s brother came over to watch a movie with him, and I started to paint. Afterwards, I began to clean off my art desk. Which led me to spending 3 hours cleaning everything around it and completely rearranging my art area. I think it was my subconscious trying to handle all of the events of the last week.
My life is a comedy of errors.