A totally Tracy kind of day

Okay, so it's been a Tracy day. It's only 1:28 p.m., but I'm ready to shout "stick a fork in me...I'm done!"

First, the day started with my alarm going off. Normally I wake up at 4:30 a.m. and spend the next 55 minutes in that half sleep thing until about 5 minutes before my alarm rings. I turn off the alarm so I don't have to hear it buzz and then spend the next 5-15 minutes (depending on my mood) fighting with myself that I need to get up and no, I can't take a sick day just because it's morning. So when I sleep until my alarm wakes me...I wake exhausted and confused and that's just not the way to start a day.

Next I had to face a Weight Reality. Now there are two types of Weight Reality. The first is the reality that sets in when you see the number on the scale. I face that every morning of my life. I am now 183.8 lbs. That's over my top weight from last January. The weight that forced me to join my school's Biggest Loser program and helped me to lose 20 pounds (course, it seems I've found it again). But at that weight --which is lighter than I am now-- I was wearing size 18 pants. Right now I'm 183.8 lbs and still in 14s (although the fit and camel-toe of it all should be convincing me to buy some 16s...but I digress). Today the other Weight Reality came to light. I grabbed a sleeveless blouse and broomstick skirt thinking that it would be good for work and the traveling I'm doing after work. Shower taken, undergarments on and shirt goes over my head and clings to my NOT-so-lovely-lady-lumps. Hmmm...not good. Then I attempt to put the skirt on, but that waist is just not gonna stretch to go over my saddlebags and hips. Not today, my friends. And I can't put it on over my head because it gets stuck on my midriff on the way down. So because time is of the essence and my clothing selection is limited because of what had to be packed for my trip this weekend and what is clean...I have on a stained, brown pair of slacks that need desperately to be size bigger with a different colored brown top...cuz brown is a neutral and goes with everything, right? Even a different colored brown. Okay, not really, but it got me out of the closet...so to speak.

So off to school I go. It's proctor time. I'm with the class where the chucker is. This child is so desperate for attention that he sniffles and coughs, clears his throat and blows his nose, turns around in his seat and counts out loud and, yes, he makes himself throw up for attention. He did it yesterday and was gearing up for it this morning. I talked him down today...but he doesn't like me anymore.

Fast forward to after lunch and I'm on the verge of a big project that affects funding for the school

and just need an answer from a bigwig at the County Office level before I get moving on it. I can’t get started on any of the other things on my plate because once you start on those, you gotta finish them, so I decide to do some office sprucing. I cleaned out some files, put some equipment and cables away in the Tech Closet and wiped down everything I could wipe down. And then it hit me. The perfect project.

 

Currently my desk sits in the middle of my office so when you come in you can see all the power cords hanging from my computer down the back of the desk and into the surge protector under my desk. My desk has those holes in it to string the power cords through so you don’t have the ugly cord mess. Well, I do have that ugly cord mess and it has bothered me all year but I didn’t want to take time away from my other duties to do anything about it. See what I mean? It was the perfect project to tackle. Quick and easy (oh, those words haunt me)… today was the day. And that’s where my story took a lefthand turn. In trying to “help” feed the power cords through the hole, into the pocket and then out through the other hole in the kneehole in my desk, I realized that my hand really shouldn’t have been shoved in quite as far as I shoved it, because it wasn’t coming out. So there I stood, in the middle of my office, bent over slightly with my hand stuck in my desk, frantically trying to yank it out. I have my tennis bracelet on that hand which didn’t help matters and the power cord was in there taking up space as well. As I got more and more frantic that I’d have to call someone to help me, it dawned on me that with a good stretch and just slight damage to my hand, I could touch the toolbox. I was able to finagle a screwdriver out of the toolbox and ever so slightly broke my desk to give me the ¼” that I needed to unjam my hand.

 So now I sit at my desk with a nice and neat deskfront, cords neatly tucked through my desk to the surge protector below. I was able to cover up the damage to my desk (until the next person tries to feed their power cords). My hand –and tennis bracelet—are intact with just slight scratches to attest to the panic-filled yanking they bore, and I am able to cover up with coughing most of the uncontrollable laughter that bursts forth when I imagine what my face must have looked like when I realized I was trapped.

 

I'm NOT still trapped in my desk (good); no one walked in on me while I was trapped in my desk (better); and I didn't have to have someone come rescue me (best). Plus, I got a good story out of it...

The hole in question...and yes, if I'd been able to reach my phone,
 I'd have taken a picture of my hand stuck in there!
Thank you very much!

But all in all...it's just a totally Tracy kind of day.