If it's not one thing...

I can remember my mom using the phrase, "if it's not one thing, it's another!" I usually try to stay away from any phrase my mom uses a lot (Dan and I have an entire list we love to tease her with), but it totally described the last week for us.

Picture it: it's Wednesday morning. I am (unusually) early when leaving for work. I am excited because it means I can stop for coffee AND I'll not be the last person to walk into my meeting. I made it all the way to Hanover when....BAM!...I got rear-ended at a light. Until I got out, checked my car, exchanged info, and listened to the guy who hit me swear up a storm, I was late to that meeting.

Thursday morning: I take all the stuff out to the car. Everything appears normal. I wake Emily, forcibly dress her as I do every morning, get Owen up and dressed, suit everyone up in coats, and head out to the car. I am not early this morning. I will make it to work just in time. I turn the key in the ignition. Nothing. I try again. Nothing. I take both kids out, walk back up to the house, and proceed to try to reach Dan for 25 minutes. Smoke is coming out of my head. I consider how long I will lay in a hospital alone and dying if a true emergency ever strikes me. Dan finally picks up. I was almost an hour late for work that morning.

Saturday: I am optimistic. My Friday went well, and while I have to be up early for the SAT's, the promise of a cream filled doughnut has made me giddy. I get to work. I get everyone set up in their testing rooms. I rush to grab one last answer sheet and speed walk it to the room. The clumsiness I am notorious for kicks in, and I fall - hard - onto the floor. As the day wears on, my foot and ankle hurt more and more. But...I have a job to do, and College Board takes SAT administration very seriously. So, it's not until I get home and kick off my heels that I realize something is very wrong. Dan makes me go to the ReadyCare. A cute doctor feels up my unshaven leg (it's winter!), takes some x-rays, and decides I've sprained my foot and possibly sustained a hairline fracture. Yep, giving the SAT's. Who knew it could be so dangerous? He hands me a very unattractive boot type thing, prescribes some painkillers, and sends me on my way.

This week is, however, looking up. Yesterday I got a new hair color that I love. I have been able to avoid wearing the hideous boot in public, and my foot is feeling better. And, I remember another favorite phrase of mom's: what's seconds is thirds. By my count, I had my three things...I'm due for some easy times.