What Happened to My Zen Place?

Yesterday I was obviously in a very Zen place. I don't know how I got there, why I was there...but I guess I knew, even then, that it wouldn't last long. For today is a new day and today could very possibly be the day that pushes me past the point of any semblance of sanity and renders me useless, drooling into a cup, slouched in a corner somewhere, staring into the great beyond.

It begins with my children, of course, who do not listen to a word I say and actually reap enormous enjoyment from my anger. I don't think that a week in Disney would make them as happy as seeing me ready to blow my stack by 7:15 am every school day. Erin will not get out of bed. Absolutely refuses. Meghan comes down the steps with an attitude and a puss on her face. And Lizzy comes down thrilled to bits with life...but she's so busy and ready to take on the world, I'm constantly pulling her out of or off of something that could mame her.

Then the dogs, oh the dogs with whom I have a hate-hate relationship. Well, no, not with Seamus. He has learned to live with much less and he accepts that. Probably because he isn't the brightest crayon in the box, and for that I am thankful. He just exists and doesn't give me a hard time. So there is a love-love relationship. But Carlos...another story entirely.

I finally get all three kids fed, dressed and out the door to walk to school. As we walk, I feel my endorphins lift and think, "What a beautiful day! What great kids! It's Fall! I think I'll go to the park! La dee da da!!" Then Erin turns into a schmuck at school and won't get out of the stroller. Eventually I pawn her off on some poor soul who hopefully worked there and we turn to come home. Lovely walk, lots of talk...and into the house to find that the blind, diabetic dog who can hardly walk has managed to turn over the kitchen trash can for the second time this week and has strewn a variety of filth through the kitchen the likes of which I cannot accurately describe. My only regret is that I didn't photograph it to post along with this rant before I let loose a string of profanities and began to clean up the funk.

I thought it would end there, really I did. But alas, it did not.

I plugged in my vacuum. My Dyson Animal that I seriously put up there in list of "Things I Must Have" with food, shelter, clothing and copious amounts of wine, is not working. Do you know WHY it's not working? Because apparently when my extremely handy husband was cleaning up from ripping apart carpet with huge staples last night, he chose MY Dyson over his Shop-Vac.

And so I am blogging in lieu of murdering this dog who clearly hates me as much as I hate him. Because if I murder him, which is what I would like to do, my husband will probably divorce me, but honestly after what he did to my Dyson, he might need to worry about that m.o. from me, too.

Honest to God, where did the Zen go? Why can't it last longer than an hour? Maybe I'll get it back again when I watch the VP debate tonight. I'll bet the ratings will be higher than the Presidential debate. I digress...

So hold hope in your hearts that this dog survives this day. And hold that same hope for me that the Zen returns to my world for more than a fleeting moment. Oy vey.