On a Lighter Note

I know my post yesterday was kind of heavy. I'm horrible at just throwing heavy things people's way when they least expect it. When it comes to emotions (especially deep ones), I'm just unpredictable like that.

Don't write me off quite yet, k? Today is much lighter. Promise.

Last night I had a pretty crappy night. I couldn't find my work bra in the ten minutes I had to leave before needing to be at work, Henry was almost out of diapers and I got in an argument with a guy at work because apparently while I'm holding the damn store together with bubble gum and popsicle sticks, I'm not doing shit. Excuse the language.

So I called Jeremy about ten minutes before I got off and begged him to figure out something for dinner. I didn't get a chance to eat before I left and I was fat-girl hungry. You can bet your sweet-buns that I did not want to come home at 10 p.m. and try to figure out what the hell to make for dinner. I just wasn't feeling it.

So Jeremy being the anti-cook he is ordered us a pizza - which I had to pick up. People don't deliver to us because we live in the boonies so if we want to eat out, we have to go out. I wasn't thrilled about having to go the five minutes out of my way to pick it up in the first place but I sucked it up and was a good girl and did it anyway.

When I got there, I went up to the counter and gave the lady my name - she seriously just stared at me like I was stupid. All I could think was great, Jeremy hasn't called it in yet and I'm going to be stuck sitting here for 15 minutes waiting on a pizza that I could really care less about. Not to mention, who wants to sit and smell pizza for 15 minutes, drive another 15 minutes and THEN get to eat. I was huuuungry, okay?

So here we are, staring at one another. Finally she asks me for my name again, shuffles through some tickets and then walks away to see if she can find my apparently missing order ticket. I notice an older lady on the phone and she keeps saying my husband's name 'Jeremy, Jeremy. Hello? This is pizza hut! Jeremy?'

Along with having no delivery service, we also have the crappiest cell-phone service ever. I sometimes get texts and voice mails from months ago. It's crazy bad. I assumed she couldn't hear him or vice versa, either way, I was like - 'I'm right here! Jeremy's wife is right here!' in which she immediately hung up on my husband, walked away and handed my ticket to the woman I was staring at before. Let's just say I was not a happy camper. I was tired, I was still kinda annoyed and ticked at the guy at work and I really just wanted to go home, eat and go to bed.

After all this commotion and ten minutes of me standing there trying to figure out what in the world was going on, the staring lady finally tells me that they are out of pizza dough.

Seriously. Out of pizza dough. I could of died right there. I didn't get mad, I'm a pretty calm person - but all of me wanted to reach over the counter and shake the lady a bit. It's a Friday night and you're running a pizza place - how in the world do you run out of pizza dough? Better yet, why in the world did you have to find my ticket in order to tell me that? I hadn't paid for it yet - it's not like she needed to refund me money or anything, so why?

You can probably imagine my annoyance at this point. Here's the thing- I paid for my pizza and I sat there for almost 30 minutes and I came home and I ate pizza too. Because they weren't out of pizza dough, they were just out of a 'kind' of dough apparently - which I'm still not sure is true. So I got a different crust and I waited because I was hungry and I knew that waiting another 15 minutes was going to take less time than going home and cooking. I pushed my annoyance to the side, came home and enjoyed my evening with my family because it would be ridiculous on my part to let a pizza ruin my night.

But I learned a couple of things last night.

I learned that apparently a restaurant can run out of one of it's main ingredients on one of it's busiest nights.
I learned that there are some serious ignorant people in our world.
And I learned that I'm really more patient than what I give myself credit for.

Cause I mean...seriously?

P.S - I entertained myself the extra 15 minutes I was waiting for my pizza by making up totally inappropriate pick-up lines based on the employees actions. I think I even laughed out loud once and I'm sure they all thought I was crazy. My favorite? "I love the way you shove that in it's hole." -said by the old woman to the totally awkward young guy whose only job was apparently to put the finished pizza in their black food-warmer bags. Bahaha. Shove it good, young'n.