Weebles wobble but they don't fall down

My life is always interesting. When I'm with my peoples (my knitting friends) I always have a good true Corrina life story to tell. But in general, my life runs pretty smoothly. I probably shouldn't say that at this point - I'm just asking for trouble. But let's review just a sprinkling of what has happened to me this past week... Thursday we visited the new contender for worst pediatric dentist's office ever.

Saturday I was referred to as Hitler and Mussolini.

I spent Sunday in the throes of some of the worst PMS ever.

Monday I fought with the dentist's office about sedation for my son and was lied to - repeatedly.

Tuesday by the grace of God I was able to arrange care with our regular dentist, but not after more fighting with the evil dentist.

Wednesday was nice. I worked at the yarnstore all day and then made 3 new knitters in my beginning knitting class!

Thursday I find out that very important paperwork I filed 3 months ago was lost in the ether. Which means my case has not even been started. So I had to re-file said paperwork. So then I made the most of the rest of the day and hid from the world at my best friend's house.

Friday. Today. Ugh.

It started off kinda ok. I got up - I had gumption. I made phone calls. I tried to get a refund from the evil dentist because they had overcharged us and it was supposed to go towards our next visit. And of course there will be no next visit.

And then I tackled the boys' room. It has gotten so bad again. Clothes everywhere - toy bins overflowing. It was ugly. And I was doing really, really well. So I sorted some laundry with some very helpful boys. I felt good. I looked bad - but I was being productive dammit.

But the dog was being weird. He kept following me around and tripping me. It was getting annoying - really annoying. So I headed to the livingroom to take the laundry out to the garage and I smelled it. I smelled it before I saw it. The dog had crapped all over the livingroom.

I mean really. After the week I've had this was not good. So I stood in the livingroom, took a deep stinky breath, and then I screamed. At the top of my lungs. But my 10 year old loves me. So he took the dog out and helped me clean up all the poo.

Finally with a laundry basket on my hip I head out the back door. Rufus is freaking out - scratching at the lattice that borders the deck. This time it was my sense of hearing that clued me in that all was not right. Mewing. Tiny little meows.

kittens

Kittens. Kittens of doom and death. Well I say that because I am deathly allergic to all felines. And we had a nest of them, right under the deck. So I did what I do best - I complained on the internet. Fortunately I complained to the right people, because Miss Andy saw my plurk. And she has experience with this sort of issue. So she came on over, crawled under my deck (she's tiny) and rescued the kittens. The mama cat ran away, but we're gonna try to live trap her so that they can re-home her as well.

All's well that ends well? I don't know. All I know is that I'm calling a Mulligan and starting over tomorrow. At least the boys' room got cleaned.