Some mornings, I just shoulda stayed in bed

Today was one of those mornings. I had a hectic schedule at work - meetings at 8, 9, 10, 12:45 and 2. So I knew there was no choice when the alarm went off, I had to get up and get moving.

I had prepped all my stuff last night - my school stuff, work stuff, lunch stuff, snack stuff, since I'd be running until 8:30 or so tonight. So I did my normal personal care routine and then started on the fun adventure.

Anyone who has a cat knows how much fun medicating them is. Gracie needed a little liquid med which worked out OK. Then Emma needed ringworm medication applied to both ears. That was bearable. But when I had to give her a dose of Flagyl (she has a bad case of diarrhea) she wanted no part of it. So I was covered with cat hair but mainly presentable as I gathered my bags to leave for work. I looked like I was going camping for a week.

I shlepped all my stuff into the garage, loaded it into my Envoy, and then hit the garage door opener. It opened 2 inches, stopped, closed, and tried to open again. We repeated this process several times with the same results. It is 102 degrees in my garage, even at 7:30 am. I know this because my car has one of those temperature readings that tell you the outside temp.

I'm looking at all the mechanisms but I can't find the thing that is supposed to let you open the door manually. So, I whip out the cell phone and call George, who has a bunch of guys in his office. He tells me to pull the rope that's hanging down - that's the manual release.

No rope.

I had to climb up on the back bumper of the Envoy, hauling my fat ass between the car and the stuck garage door, to look for the release mechanism. When I got up there, I couldn't figure out where it was. So I had to climb back down, retrieve the cell phone, and climb back up. I pushed and pulled everything, but no joy. George told me to check the rollers on the sides of the door, and one is off the track. I can't budge it.

By this time my makeup has melted off my face, sweat is dripping from my body, and I realize that my new short haircut does not trap the sweat as well as longer hair did. Salty droplets sting my eyes.

Our neighbor Doug has already left for work. The teenage boy across the street is gone to school. George is in a meeting with the plant manager until 11. I call my mom and can't wake her up - she turns off the ringer on the bedroom phone because of crank calls. I was going to borrow her car, but I am not physically capable of walking the several miles over to her place and stealing/borrowing her car.

I finally gave up, called work and interrupted the 8 a.m. meeting to say I obviously wasn't there, got someone to cover the 9, rescheduled the 10 a.m. meeting, and said I'd be in when George got home to rescue me.

Then I shucked all my clothes and took another shower.

The past few days I've had to be on my feet continuously for much longer periods than I used to (standing through the lab class, waiting in line for an hour at the bookstore). My fibro is flaring as a result, and my climbing adventures of this morning are already making my shoulder, back and knee complain.

It's a long day already.