For the Love of Monkeys

First of all, I have to say I can't take credit for the phrase that's in today's title. I totally stole it from someone I used to work with who used it all the time. It struck me as utterly hilarious, and when I came home and told my husband, he just looked at me blankly, like he didn't get it. When I explained that the phrase is a twist on the usual, "For the love of God," he paused.

Then he said, "Well, if you're an evolutionist, I suppose it's the same thing."

I Still. Can. Not. Get. My. Calendar. Straight.

AAARRRGHH!

Today was the preschool picnic for my daughter. In my defense (which I totally don't even deserve to be defended at this point), the gym I used to coach has a coach that was in a serious car accident. The details of her medical condition (of which I only partially know) aren't being released yet, but it is quite serious as the accident happened several weeks ago and she's still in the hospital--and probably will be for awhile more. Obviously, she's not coaching, so they've had some gaps to fill. I've been doing what I can for them until they get permanent help hired and today was one of the days I said I would cover.

Also in my defense, I haven't been able to get my phone calendar working and am seriously considering not using my phone for a calendar again and going back to paper because it is just so much easier.

In other words, I sort of have an excuse for her missing the picnic, but not really, as if I'd realized yesterday (and possibly even this morning) I would have been able to have one of her friends take her there. At the very least, I would have emailed to inform people I wouldn't be attending.

Instead, I dropped her off at the neighbor's house and when I got home and checked my email, discovered my screw up.

Screw up number 37 million this week, if anyone is counting.

This afternoon, I did manage to get a little physical activity in. The neighbor and I finally managed to coordinate a bike trip on the loop downtown she's been telling me about.

Get this: I remembered everything. I had no flats. I got my rear wheel on and off all by myself. AND I don't even have a migraine. Granted, after my last several bicycle escapades (forgotten lock, flats, getting lost, more flats, missing trailer pieces, forgotten shoes, forgotten sunglasses), I have not only made an extensive "biking 'to-pack' list" on my phone, but I now stand at the car and make sure that all the items on the list are actually inside the vehicle.

It wasn't until we were driving back and I was telling my neighbor that I'd booked a massage client for tomorrow evening, that I realized I'd screwed up again, as she asked me, "What about Project Runway?"

Oh yeah, our standing Thursday night TV date, where I go over to her house to mooch the air conditioning and cable TV to watch my favorite show.

Oh, for the love of monkeys. Can I not get anything right?!