I was having a nightmare. My hubby was cheating on me, and I was FURIOUS. Only it wasn’t my hubby. I mean, I wasn’t married to Reggie. I was married to some other guy, some unknown person, and he was cheating on me. Stupid nightmares. Technically, I guess it way a day-mare, because when I woke up and looked at the clock, it was straight up noon. NOON! Ohmigosh! I can’t believe it’s noon! How did I manage to sleep so late? What day is it again? Tuesday… Zumba at 4pm. Crap. I have so much to do today!
Knock Knock Knock. Crap. Someone’s at the door. Robe, I need my robe. Yes, I’m going to answer the door in my robe, it’s nicer than answering the door naked.
I walk into the living room to answer the door, and I stop in my tracks. So confused. Why does my house look like this? RILEY!!!! Stupid dog, got into the trash. It’s everywhere. And there’s poop. Lots of poop. On the carpet.
Knock Knock Knock. Crap. Someone’s at the door. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Crap. That’s just great. I’m in my robe, someone’s at the door, and my face is all puffy from crying in my sleep. Oh and my hair? Yeah… it looks like I stuck my finger in an outlet.
I look out the curtain to see who’s at the door. It’s Sabrina. I open the door a crack and say, “Look, My house is a wreck, I’m a wreck. I just woke up, so ignore whatever you see." I open the door the rest of the way and let her in. I must have mumbled something else incoherently on my way to the kitchen to start the coffee, but I don’t remember what it was. “Let me just start the coffee, and I’ll get this mess cleaned up.”
The mess. Ohmigosh. My house is a wreck, it’s noon, and I have company. I’m in my robe. GEEZ! What a picture my friend must be forming in her mind.
And then it hits me. It’s Rodney’s birthday. I must look like the most depressed, ragged, wreck of an individual.
I walk back to the living room, and notice for the first time that Sabrina is holding something in her hand. It’s a bag, and has a balloon tied to it that says “Thinking of you!” It’s from Edible Arrangements. My sweet friend has probably been up since the crack of dawn with her 3 kids and homework and and everything in her life, and has taken the time to drive to Tulsa to pick up a treat for me on this difficult day, and I can’t even get my butt out of bed before noon, or have a presentable clean home when she gets here! What a picture! I open the bag, and inside is a box of chocolate covered strawberries. Sabrina is so incredibly thoughtful.
Sabrina can’t stay long, her son is in the car. I thank her, hug her, try not to breathe morning breath on her, and then shut the door behind her. And I realize, my sweet friend picked up all the trash for me. The trash my little demon-dog scattered everywhere. So sweet. I clean up the poop, scrub the carpet, and run the vacuum. The dog is grounded outside. I don’t care if it rains. I’m mad.
I’m so blessed to have people in my life who care. Today is a hard day. Next week, I’ll have another hard day. And then life can get back to normal, because honestly? This day? This day is not how I want my life to be. I don’t want to wake up late, answer the door in my bathrobe, and be incoherent when a friend pops over. I don’t want my house trashed by the demon-dog. And I don’t want to feel this hole in my heart with every beat.
Happy Birthday Bubba. I’ll try to do better next year.
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