My day starts at 7am when the animals that have dug through the rot in my house are fighting, or mating or something REALLY loudly in the ceiling or maybe even the wall and I realize that my assurance to my husband that they were unlikely to come into the house was wrong, since we have a decaying ceiling on the first floor and if there are holes in the walls that let them travel down there, well a drop ceiling isn't much compared to an animal, likely squirrel dropping down hard on it. My tired brain forming images of the animal knocking down large clumps of plaster on the florescent light cover, its own bulk dropping down and raining the plaster all over the pinball machine don't put me at ease. My biggest worry if they enter the house is that they will attack my stupid, but elderly cat and hurt him. I formulate plans, to paranoid to sleep when the animals seem to be scratching near the bedroom window as well. I try to map out how interconnected things are, wondering if the attic rafters door would give me entry to their newly acquisitioned home. Eventually I determined the cat is safely in our bedroom with us and the animal noise are only in the ceiling, not in the living space of the house and drift back to sleep to await nightmares of animals making us look in our drop ceiling only to find that one of the room sin our house used to be a disco/rave hall with a ceiling full of florescent lights in a rainbow of colors.
Next thing I know greg has a awoken, checks both clocks and says "Huston, we have a problem." I look over at the clock to see 11:51, 9 minutes before greg needs to be out the door for work. He asks me if I can driving him to w92, I say sleep yes and am a little annoyed that he has no license to drive himself, but not really. He showers first and sit sleepily on the bed waiting for my turn. I get my turn and when I emerge he's running around frantically trying to get ready. I ask about parking, because likely I'll have to drive all the way back here to find legal parking, he finds that we can park on w92, which leaves me on campus to revise my story. not a big deal I guess. I need to eat though, but there is only ten minutes, so we do some multitasking (Oh! don't forget to feed nicki) and all this hurrying has put me in frantic, don't waste a moment mode.
I get to the car and have no problem driving it a little up the driveway. I think the snow is all nice and fluffy, no problem, so I wait for greg to get in, and then I can't get up the driveway. I ask him to get out, thinking it's his wait that is the problem. I still can't get started, I got a little further down, still can't get started, so I try to find a fresh, un compressed bit of snow, I get food traction, get some speed, and notice that I'm too close to the side of the house and look at my mirror just in time to hear the crunch and see if hanging limply at the side of my car. At this point my tired brain that has been in "don't fail greg, get him to work now NOW NOW! mode can't deal, I just fall into tears. Over the next hour I cry a lot, not really having the mental stamina to keep my composure for more than a few minutes. I try to crazy glue the mirror back together, but I can't quite get the alignment right, I try to take it off ot make it easier to see what I'm doing, but for some strange reason they seem to be metric bolts, and we don't have a metric socket set that will fit into the tight space. I can't get it off, and I can't make it stable, time to see what this costs us. $135, to be fixed tomorrow. Greg didn't make it into work, and, the lest of my worries, I won't get to play MAX2 today. I don't much feel like it any more anyway.
So now I have to revise a story that I hate before tonight and then go and get it fixed tomorrow, when hopefully the animals won't wake me up again.