And that's why you should never ask me how my day is.. unless you really mean it.

Why?

Because I won't hold back.  I'll tell you how I really feel. 

Dear Checkout person who would rather be doing anything other than checking out my groceries right now because there is obviously little to no job satisfaction dragging food items over a glass scanner and periodically stopping to look up a number to a fresh vegetable item you've obviously never seen before in your life (they're jalapenos FYI dumb-ass), so if you are going to ask me your customer service company protocol line of "How are you?/How's your day going?"  I hope you really mean it.

REALLY. MEAN. IT.

Because, yesterday, the day that Joseph unplugged my iPhone from the computer while it was updating and ERASED ALL CONTENT ON MY iPhone, I was NOT having a good day.

But thanks for asking, I'll go on and tell you all about it.  

Don't act surprised that I didn't answer "Fine, thanks" or "Just peachy and how's your day going?" Like we BOTH don't give a shit what each of our answers are but we just go through the motions before you give me my total. 

It's also not like I usually say to the checkout person "Just fine, thanks".  I usually go on and tell every single one of them, EXACTLY how my day is going, fabulously good or horribly, horribly wrong.

You asked. 

Now you get to know.

Obviously, it starts out with my iPhone crashing, and a 4 year olds life that hangs in the balance.  Never mind the 6 week old I have that is craving to be fed or needs attention or has poop exploding up his back, my iPhone has just been erased and there is an alien-to-me image on the screen that instructs me to connect it to my iTunes.  Pressing buttons at random in a desperate feeble attempt to resuscitate life back into my device won't do any good, connect to iTunes so we can say that you need to RESTORE YOUR IPHONE.  SHIT!!!!!  Devastating, to say the least.

In the grand scheme of things it isn't that horrible, like a flesh eating bacterial disease, but this was close enough for me.

So, with Joseph's existence dangling by, but a thread and by thread, I mean like dental floss thread, this is how my day went.  And this is how I told my red headed Walmart grocery check out person:


"Just awful, my day has been traumatic this far, I'm not sleeping, the baby is back to wanting to eat every three hours and I can't seem to get my ass in bed before midnight, not sure why, my four year old ERASED my iphone and I have spent all of this morning trying to get it back, which was a total of 4 hours strapped to my home phone and my laptop and only at 2pm was able to get dressed and start my day, I had so much to do today and in a precise order which was kept as a notes feature on my iphone that got ERASED that I'm wondering around midlessly trying to remember what it was that I had to do today and what the hell I have to do everyday because I can't remember a damn thing these days, my house is a FEMA disaster and I get no government assistance, turns out George Bush also hates me, and I don't even know how much laundry I have to do, my iPhone still isn't loaded with all the songs that I had on it before the crash and I'm just ready to throw in the towel... We should probably stop talking, I'm on the verge of crying publicly....... again."

But thanks for asking.  Jerk.

I got my total and sheepishly the checkout person said, as we parted:

"I hope your day gets better."

Me too, asshat, me too.

And that's why you should never ask me how my day is.. unless you really, I mean, REALLY mean it.