Rainy days and Mondays always bring me down. Well, no, just this particular Monday and I'm good with rainy days.

Man, it's only Monday, and I have had it. Perhaps its because it's that time of the month and I just don't know it, and my mood swings are solely based on purchasing power. I dunno. But today, I left the house, only to look out and see that the yard waste people left a note on my pumpkin leaf bags citing they are plastic and they don't do that. Fine.

So, I put the car in park, and ripped all those bags open and put them in the approved yard waste cans. I got nasty wet grass all over me. Super.

The gym - the pool water is gross, the sink doesn't work, the guy who does the kids swim classes doesn't watch them at all, and mumbles instructions with a lollipop in his mouth. There's no water pressure and the water is scalding. I felt like Goldilocks, walking from shower stall to shower stall. If i have to figure out the best shower stall that ain't right. The swim classes for adults are no longer free, and the triathlon training program I've been so excited about, has doubled in price, but halfed in service. Shit y'all. Woops, sorry, that's my list for my next comment card.

I got a bill in the mail for $540 for psychiatric treatment. It's not even my name, but my address. Nice, you'd think when whoever's sitting in the chair is listening, and taking better notes than that.

Then the recycling guys left the bin perfectly located in the middle of my driveway so that I couldn't pull in to the driveway, had to park the car in the street, move the bin, and then pull in.

Habitat for humanity called and although I appreciate that it was actually a live person soliciting my money that I'm bankrolling in, the monotony of her reading to me, not so much today. I don't usually do this, and I don't know what came over me, usually I give them the courtesy of not letting them ramble on, or I ask them to send it to me by mail. But this time, I just let her go a while, and then I just hung up. On HABITAT FOR HUMANITY! I'm an ass.

I called the billing office for the psychiatric treatment, and explained that it's the right last name, right address, but just a few letters off my first name, and last I checked, I've receieved no psychiatric treatment. But perhaps I should. Ha hah ahah, she's not laughing. She suggests I've committed mail fraud. And wants me to waste a stamp and mail back the bills (because there's plural) that I've had the audacity to open. She's going to have to file a report. I tell her to just fix the address and I won't be wasting whatever the going rate for a stamp is anymore.

I walked Farley the Wonderdog to pick up the kids, and did you know that dog poops while he walks. Doesn't even to bother to pull over or squat. Right there on the sidewalk. God, I hope nobody sees this, because I have nothing to pick it up with. Didn't see it coming, dear God, he's like a frikkin Clydesdale at a parade! Is he going to stop!?

Clearly, it's the wrong time of the month for me.

As soon as I picked up my kids, the clouds parted, the sun came out. It was a little warmer out and the rest of the day was fine. And Max says, "Mom, I had like, the worst recess ever today."

Poor kid.

That's how I roll.