If you couldn't tell by yesterday's blog post...I was having a self imposed crabby day. There was not a single excuse for my mood, I was just crabby and that was how it was going to be.
Case in point:
I needed to print invitations for a friend's baby shower. I tried at home and they came out crooked. I tried at work, and they got jammed in my printer. So I took them to the Staples Print Shop...where they are professional printers. Or so they say. They do a test print - lovely. I leave and let them print the cards. 45 minutes later I get a call that all the cards got stuck in their printer and thus they have not and cannot print a single one. But I am welcome to come and pick up the crinkled ruined ones and my jump drive.
thanks. On a typical day, I would be supremely annoyed but move on. Yesterday, I had some choice words with the Staples employee for which I honestly think I should bake her some apology cookies. Staples lady out there if you are reading this - I appologize for questioning your intelligence and qualifications for your retail job. Further, I apologize for slamming the phone down on you. whoops.
Second, a friend asked me for wedding registry advice and I retorted: "How the he*% should I know. I don't have a single one of my wedding gifts because our condo is too dang small and they have been sitting in boxes in my parents house for over a year since we can't sell our condo. Don't ask me what to register for because I don't even know what I got, SINCE I CAN'T SELL THE CONDO"
Real cool Kara. Real cool.
So I do what I do when I feel that way and I workout. Some people down 3 jars of peanut butter (I swear, a guy in my WW group did that, frequently), some people drink, other people sleep. I run. Or do yoga. And so I did. Both. And now my head is clear.
Consider this my confession. I am sorry staples lady. I am sorry Debra. Sometimes you just have a self imposed crabby day. There is no cause, you just feel as though it is your time to breathe fire.
Fire breathing complete.