Hellllooooooooooo Monday!

I should’ve known that when my Jazzercise instructor’s iPod gave out smack dab in the middle of our 5:45 am class, it wasn’t an ominous sign to her Monday, as she suggested, but instead a warning to me. (And yes, Jazzercise. HUSH. It’s really, really fun!)

Or maybe I should’ve known even earlier that morning. Like when I checked my email at 5:15 am (before the aforementioned Jazzercise class) and discovered that, due to some illness and prior engagements, I was being asked to present at the all-company Monday morning meeting.

Which started at 8:30 am.

And I had yet to see the PowerPoint presentation.

Yes, yes, looking back, that probably should’ve been my first clue. The iPod failure would’ve been my second.

Yet, I headed to Jazzercise knowing I’d be cutting it close time-wise, but it was doable. After all, the all-company meeting is a series of presentations, not just one, and presenters who were forced to bail had requested their (now my) presentation be last. I’d have plenty of time. Sort of. And heck I woke up at 5:10! I had to get something out of it—workout it was.

The iPod failure at class threw things slightly off schedule, as there was scrambling for a secondary music source. I rushed home after my semi-botched workout attempt, with about an hour or so to get home, showered, dressed, and on my way to work.

Of course, OF COURSE things at home didn’t *quite* go as well as planned , with a preschooler, needy cat and barky, constipated dog, but I kept pretty much on schedule. I was rushing out the door at 8 a.m. when I realized one of my tires was a little low. Ruh-roh. I stopped to get air at a gas station, but the air pumper thing was a hot mess (as was I at this point). It simply blasted more air around my tire than actually in the tire. No matter, I finally got enough air in there and went about my merry way.

Then I got stuck in traffic.

And then it was 8:25, and I was still five minutes from the office—not including the time I needed to park in my lot and walk the couple of blocks to the building. Eek. I decided to forgo the parking lot and park in a meter closer the building.

But then.

I couldn’t find change to feed the meter. The purse that is usually heavy with coins suddenly had none. Finally found a few stray nickels and dimes after rummaging around the floorboards and under the seats of my car.

It was 8:35, and I was rushing up the elevator and into the conference room (more a wide open space with a screen on the wall than conference room) where the entire company (200+) gathers for our weekly all-company meeting. (Looking lovely, I’m sure, by this time.) The meeting hadn’t begun! I had made it! And with time to spare! Woot!

Except wait.

Someone didn’t get the memo, and my presentation wasn’t moved until the end of the meeting. It was still first—they were calling my name as I was throwing my bags onto the ground. Yeah.

But I did it, it went fairly well, and now it’s a working-mom morning to look back on and chuckle.

Well, maybe in a few more days.

Ever had a morning like this? I have to think they happen semi-regularly for the working mom masses. They are for me, anyway, the last one included some dog poo. I’m not alone, right?