Today was such a stupid day. Nothing went terribly wrong other than the the fact that my Dad has a blood clot from his knee to his groin and I’m worried sick about him.

(They are traveling. He’s not in the hospital because they don’t have insurance right now (long story) so of course I’m worried sick about him.

Anyway that is not why today was stupid. I’m sure it had some underlying affect on my overall mental condition but there is nothing I can do to help my dad right now so I’m trying to compartmentalize my worry into a little box.)

Today is Wednesday which means I volunteer in Bug’s class. I’ve never worked out at the gym right before volunteering so today was a first. I get sweaty in those Zumba classes and I knew I would smell badly if I went directly from my workout to the classroom so I made the decision to shower at the gym. I see lots of women doing it. I figured I could pull it off. I’m a no-nonsence kind of girl. I like to go camping. I figured I could swing it, no problem.

I was so wrong.

I forgot my shoes. Nothing went as planned.

First of all my clothes got a little wet in the shower because there was no place to put them out of the way of the shower spray. There was a little shelf but it was in the shower and there was no way to direct the shower head away from it.

Second, I had to hurry like mad because there were women waiting right outside for me. A line of them! There was a little curtain between us but they could see me through the cracks. Nothing like eyeballs to make you feel the pressure. I felt like I was in middle school all over again.

I made it out of the shower alive but then I realized I forgot to bring a regular sized towel and a hair dryer. I peeled my clothes on over my wet body but then I had to deal with my hair. All I had was my little sweaty workout towel. I dried off the best I could but my hair was dripping! Thankfully, I had a few rubber bands and I remembered Whoorl’s top knot trick but I still looked like I was trying to be Madonna or something with a skintight wet ponytail. Not my best look.

And then there was the issue of my shoes. I had to wear my running shoes with a skirt because I forgot my mary janes that I had planned to wear. Running shoes with a skirt!!! At least my skirt was sort of sporty with rusching and a drawstring but still! I never wear workout shoes with dresses. Ugh. That’s just not my style. I don’t live in New York and it’s not the eighties.

So I pulled myself together, hid under my many bags and beelined it to my car. I tried not to count how many cute guys were coming and going to the gym through the same big entry way that I had to pass through but there seemed to be quite a few of them. They were all probably ten years younger than me and wouldn’t have noticed me even if I did look like a hot Bahama mama but still. I felt so stupid. Wet slicked back hair and running shoes–ugh!

I didn’t have much time but I decided I could NOT go to Bug’s class looking like that. I can die a thousand deaths of humility but I can’t force that on her too. I drove home as fast as I could, whipped up the stairs and changed shoes. I changed out of my now wet shirt and into another dry one. Then I blew dry the front of my hair and kept the tight top knot. I was passable.

I rushed over to Bug’s school and then stood there in the parking lot trying to remember what time I’m supposed to be volunteering. Was it ten? Ten-thirty? I have so many time slots going through my head, I can’t keep anything straight. And then there was that last time when I went too early and interrupted the class when the teacher was being observed by the principal. That was terrible! I think I’m starting to develop an anxiety disorder over volunteering because for some reason I keep blocking out what the time is that I’m supposed to be there.

I gathered my courage and knocked on the door. Of course all the kids were sitting on the floor listening to a story and I completely interrupted everything, AGAIN. I swear, there is no sneaking in and out of that classroom. It’s like the door is the stage or something and I get stage fright every time I have to go through it.

I snuck to the back of the room to where the teacher usually has a little folder with instructions for volunteers. It wasn’t there. Everything was weird. I felt the world closing in around me. I didn’t know where to go. I probably should have interrupted Bug’s teacher but she had just launched into a story about penguins and I knew it would be horrible. I couldn’t stand the thought of all those little eyeballs on me while we sorted out the mix-up.

Plus, I had a craft post due today and trying to get craft posts photographed before the sun goes down on these short winter days is like trying to beat a noon deadline on a breaking news story. The pressure!

I broke. I felt like I was going to cry. I rushed out of the classroom and went home. I shouldn’t have. When I picked Bug up later she was really disappointed that I didn’t show. So was her teacher. I’m sure I threw a wrench into her schedule.

And to make matters worse my craft project turned into the craft project from hell. I shouldn’t have left myself only one day to figure it out but I don’t get paid enough to work on it for two days so I always do this to myself. It’s sink or swim. I feel like I’m sinking.

I guess you’ll see tomorrow when it posts on Alpha+Mom.