While not on the same level as recent sucky events in my life - this evening sucked!
I was feeling a little crappy towards the end of the work day. As I started to drive home I debated go straight home or go to my ballroom dancing class (rumba part 2). I stopped at McDonald's to get a soda (no Tums in the car) and decided I would go. Class will be fun, I'll be around people, and it should be a nice distraction.
At class we start out lined up on opposite sides of the gym to learn and practice steps apart then we pair up and dance to practice together. First the teacher went over what we did last week, then she put on the music. Damn, if the guy who can't count to four walked over to me*. "It's OK", I thought, "I've got last week's steps down pretty well, maybe I will actually help him learn them better." So after three and a half minutes of not being lead around the floor, except to do outside turns instead of inside ones, I figure I've done my time and he'll dance with some other unaccompanied lady next time. NO SUCH LUCK.
So, now we learn the steps for the quick underarm turn. I missed some of the instruction to call Mom back but got back in there to get the steps. Cue music. I stand there and pray that one of the helpers will come grab me and whisk me off so I can actually practice the move. No. Can't-Count makes a bee-line for me. I only get a few decent turns in, with some help from the instructor's assistant. End of that song, or two, I say to the other single ladies as we line back up "OK, someone else's turn next time." They just kind of laugh it off. (We've commented to one another before about how bad this guy is.) We learn the cross-over break steps. I don't have as good a grip on these for some reason and keep getting my feet backwards. Guess who I got to dance with to practice these steps. That's right and I now have no f-in' clue how to do it right. When the music stopped, the teacher said for us to keep dancing (we had another 5 minutes or so) and she'd continue to walk around and check up on us. "Practice all the steps you've learned. Put them together." Whoopee. I told Can't-Count I had to leave.
Meanwhile my stomach feels about as good as it did when I arrived (really need to get some Tums). And my mood has most definitely not improved. In fact, when she said to just keep dancing I was about ready to cry. Once in the car I got mad; it was that or cry and it is really hard to drive and cry at the same time. (I know, I've done it bunches.)
So, now I get home upset, hungry, and with massive indigestion. And my home smells like shit. At first I can't see why, so I start to think "great my house just smells like poo now." (Honey had diarrhea a couple weeks ago and today is the first really humid day since) But the smell is awful strong to just be lingering. Then I see that she has had a mild bout of the runs. I don't yell (she can't help it if she's sick.) but I do put her outside while I clean it up to prevent my seething at her. Then I notice that there is a large puddle on the floor, too. That I yell at her for. I still haven't made up to her yet. She is looking very pitiful (and hungry) over there. I guess that that bread was moldy; couldn't tell after she pulled it off the counter and ate it (my fault, I forgot to put it up).
I'm feeling slightly better now that I have ranted to all of you on the Internet. Thank you.
*Quick note about dance class attendance with respect to gender: very few single men come. There are, usually, three guys without partners (tonight 2) and at least five girls most weeks. Gentlemen who are unaccompanied are suppose to make sure that all the ladies get to dance and not monopolize one lady (this goes for actual dances, too). Additionally, there are several of gentlemen from the intermediate class, who come to the beginning class to even out the sexes. Tonight there were two helper-dancers.