Are you sure today isn't Monday?

By 6:27 this morning, I knew it was going to be an awful day. Tim tried, at that time, to convince me that really it meant that nothing worse could happen. (He subscribes to the glass half-full philosophy of life most of the time – and also the good ol’ “eat a live frog first thing every morning and nothing worse can happen all day.” Of course, that saying always brings to mind the picture of the frog with its “hands” around the neck of the pelican trying to eat it with the little “Never give up” slogan. So I guess the question is: are you the pelican or the frog, right?)

The first hour of my day started out fine, so we’ll skip to where we get into my car (so I can drive and Tim can read school stuff in the backseat to maximize useful hours in the day) and start to back out of the garage and – owing to what I’m not sure, tiredness? Lack of concentration? Just plain retardation? Possibly some combination of all three – I whack the passenger side mirror on the garage door frame. The noise that caused was worse than the noise caused either time I was rear ended. You’d really think I had just totaled my vehicle from the sound. But no, all I did was completely mangle my mirror. You know in the movie So I Married an Axe Murderer, when Mike Myers is goofing around in the butcher shop and has the strips of meat hanging from his sleeve and he’s going “Nurse? Nurse?” Well, that’s what my mirror looks like now. I’m seriously tempted to lie to the repair shop. Cause really – how do you admit that you’re just that kind of complete moron that managed to do this to your own car while performing an action you’ve managed to safely do for over eight years (pull into and out of a garage).

I tried. I really tried to adopt Tim’s positivism. It lasted until about half way to work when the nausea started. I took my antibiotic this morning but forgot what I was looking in the fridge for when I got the three steps across the kitchen to open the fridge, so I put milk in the coffees, assumed this is what I had been meaning to do, and put it out of my mind. Of course, what I had really been meaning to do was to find something to eat so that I the big, fluorescent yellow “TAKE WITH FOOD” sticker on my pill bottle would not be in vain. Let me just say, they’re not kidding. I will skip the gory details of stomach cramps like I have never felt before in my life and the joy of puking in a public restroom and having the floor admin fluttering around my office to just make sure I’m ok and are you sure you’re not ill and should go home? (Which, ok, that’s nice. I’ll grant you. But please. Accept my explanation. I’m not bulimic. I don’t have the Asian bird flu. I just didn’t eat with my antibiotic. What’s that? Oh yes. I’m a moron. Thanks. Today has already proved that.)

So, I went and got something to eat from the vending machine. Why would I do this when there’s a nice little café downstairs that actually has fresh bagels? Well, because they’re closed today, of course. Why are they closed? I’m guessing it’s because they employ a psychic with a twisted sense of humor who is currently sitting at home having the time of their life thinking about me, doubled over the public potty in pain, spewing up the snack that came out of the vending machine because it wasn’t the right combination of whatever blessed medicine is in bagels. (Have you ever noticed how well bagels soothe a hurting tummy?) The granola bar I tried second worked better, though it caused extreme pain while trying to chew it only on one side of my mouth to try and avoid crunching off my surgical dressing. Cause yeah, I’m not supposed to be eating crunchy things right now.

With the rollicking in my stomach now reduced to bearable, if still horrendous, I tried to retackle the issue that started yesterday when my PM came in and had the following conversation:
Him: I sent you a new requirement, did you see it?
Me: Saw it, didn’t look carefully. I thought I’d finish getting it work this way before completely re-writing it again.
Him: Ok. Well, could you look at it now?
Me: Sure. (looks at the email) Ok, that isn’t too much re-writing.
Him: Great.

So I make the changes and now. Now my file doesn’t upload properly. It gets corrupted somewhere during the process. Why? I have no clue. Cause, and here’s the kicker, I didn’t change ANYTHING in the part that’s doing the file uploading. *sigh* So, I was hoping that it would mysteriously get fixed overnight (you know, be a server or network issue or something). So far, no dice. Though I think maybe it’s because my team member keeps restarting the web services without telling anyone, so if it’s getting interrupted all the time, that might account for some of it. We’ll see. But I’m not hopeful that that’ll solve the issue because, well, because today is just another one of those days.

I knew I should’ve stayed in bed.