…where you’re ticking along feeling pretty freaking good about yourself, your life, everything around you, and then WHAM-O, Fate/God/Karma/whatever steps in to deliver a suckerpunch that drops you on your butt and then after that kicks you a little while you’re down? Ever had one of those days?

Today was one of those for me.  There was a Pampered Chef party tonight, and it happened to be at the home of someone I genuinely like and yet rarely see or talk to. (Probably that’s part of why she genuinely likes me back.) I go, and amazingly enough, I happen to like everyone who’s there. I think it was my own personal heaven. People I like, Pampered Chef ordering opportunity, good food about to head my way…what’s not to love here?

Then WHAM-O! Fate steps in to remind me to never, ever stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. Fate did this in the form of a neighbor showing up, and it couldn’t be just any ol’ neighbor. No. It had to be the one from whom my boy stole. The one who not only handed him over to school officials without so much as a heads-up phone call to my house (which was her right, of course), but the one who had the audacity to lecture him when we took him over to her house to apologize for his criminal behavior.

Now her presence alone wouldn’t generally be enough to actually ruin anything for me. I’m one of those people who doesn’t give a leaping lizard’s lunch about things like that. Hakuna matata, my friends, hakuna matata. Where Fate got its suckerpunch in was when said neighbor made a point of saying hello to the person with whom I was speaking while pointedly not saying hello to me and rolling her eyes at me. Ouch. Uncomfortable much? Thanks, it’s been lovely, I have to go now.

So. I get home, and I get to enjoy my family a little. We all hung out watching Bill play Guitar Hero III. (Save the snark, people. Just. Save. The. Snark.) My little rats and I were enthralled by Daddy’s rockstar ability with a fake guitar, and we had a good time. We’re calling that a win, okay?

Then, I decide to go online and see about some meal planning. I suck at the whole “what’s for dinner” thing. I don’t mind cooking, but I hate planning. So, I go a-Googling, and I find a site that looks to be right up my alley. It’s free. It’ll spit me out a few meal ideas based on the preferences I enter. It’ll give me a shopping list based on those meal ideas. Man, oh man, it’ll do everything but cook it practically! WOOHOO! Oh, Steph, didn’t you learn anything from the Pampered Chef party? DIDN’T YOU?!?

So, I’m entering my vitals on this site, including the ever-dreaded height and weight. I click “submit” and wait patiently for this thing to take me to the next step on our wonderful journey towards meal planning and grocery shopping made easy. Uh oh. There’s a glitch. It wants me to check and make sure the height and weight I’ve entered are accurate. I suddenly start to feel Fate drawing its foot back to give me a swift one.

When the site spits back this message, “According to the American Obesity Association, the height and weight you entered indicate that you are morbidly obese. Although you may use this tool, it is not designed to provide the level of intervention you need. See your health care provider for assistance”, I realize that Fate is whipping my ass for me today.

I’m sure there are people reading this who will have theories on why Fate took a couple of jabs at me today. I’m equally sure I don’t much care to hear any theories about why. I’m even more sure that I need a hot bath and a blankie and a baby to snuggle. Probably Fate will now blow up our water heater.

Related:

• The difference between 24 and 34.
• Mental detritus for the day.
• Today’s a big day.
• They’re assimiliating me…
• I’ll say goodbye to love.