I forgot my phone.
I ascertain this somewhere right before the 101 merges with the 405, and I do believe that’s the point where my day officially became the Mondayist of Mondays. I need said phone to call James to remind him that it’s The First because we both forgot to write a rent check and he’s our last hope for getting it out on time. Once I get to work I essentially shush my coworkers as I head straight to a landline where I have an awkward conversation where instead of saying ‘Hi’ I ask if it’s James (uhh, who else would it be?) and then I proceed to talk and then pause and insert an ‘It’s Melina’ randomly before continuing.
Landlines… they’ll throw you off every time.
My coworker, who I probably borderline rudely waved away earlier, then tells me she’s super sick and needs me to run today’s photoshoot. Now, feeling terrible, I become grand duchess of the photoshoot and hopefully don’t screw anything up (to be determined…). I probably should have had more/less caffeine, but it’s Monday and suddenly I’m in charge of something important and it is what it is.
Lunch does not get eaten, so I start dreaming large dinnerwise! Remember this for later…
I finally arrive back home and get to searching for my phone. I search high, I search low. The phone doesn’t show up. I search my car; maybe it fell out! I search the sidewalk along the way to where my car was parked this morning (blasted street parking!). No phone. Desperate emails are sent to James and I begin to wonder just how far back the cheapest iPhone replacement will set me.
This isn’t a tragedy, so the phone is finally found! Buried in the middle of my clean laundry basket, obviously! Because that’s where everyone places their phone.
I workout because clearly today has had issues. I also multitask and explain to James via text what a frittata is because that is what I’ve been dreaming of. Then, with the perfect amount of time left to finish dinner right as James walks in, I discover that we have precisely two eggs. Two eggs does not a frittata make.
And that, my friends, is how you do a Monday up right!
**So you don’t feel sad for me: [Saint] James came home with beer and, hello, I’m a third of the way through this work week. Woop, woop! Go holidays!**
P to the S: Google Reader is kaput after today, so be sure to import your feed to Bloglovin’ or another RSS feed reader!