Disney Got It Wrong

Chapter 9

If I were to rate my days, I would use a scale of one to four.

1- An exceptionally good day where everything is so much fun, everyone is in the best mood, and everything goes as planned. Yay! Go team!

2 - Your normal, uneventful but pleasant day with the expected everyday mishaps here and there.

3 - Your average stress ridden day where you can't wait for bedtime to down that glass of wine or two and call it a night.

4 - An exceptionally bad day with a meltdown or two that leaves you on the verge of nervous breakdown and/or emotional armageddon.

Buy the thing about bad days is they don't always start out so bad.

Say you were up late the night before having a nice home cooked dinner with a friend that marked a big step in the progression of your new friendship. Your average person would have unspoken plans to sleep late the next morning and have a totally restful and stress free morning, right?

And just for the sake of argument, let's say some asshat decided to ring the doorbell at what feels like an ungodly hour to your sleep deprived mind, thus disintegrating any and all plans for the rest and relaxation you had planned.

That, folks, is exactly what happened to me the morning after the pajama party with and kicked off the descent into a category 4 bad day.

I was in full on deep sleep mode, drool and all, and in the midst of a good dream for a change. I couldn't necessarily remember what the dream was about, but I knew it was good. I startled awake at the sound of the persistent ringing of the doorbell. Someone was really laying on it. I rushed out of bed in panic mode, my thoughts instantly going to my kids and thinking I'd missed an important phone call in such a heavy sleep. Had something happened to one of them?

My heart was racing like I'd just run a marathon. I sprinted down the hall barefooted and scrambling into my robe before I wrenched the door open with trembling hands.

"Mom, I..."

My speech stuttered to a stop, and an apology died on my lips. Urgency mixed with confusion as my sleep addled mind struggled to catch up with what was going on and sort out why Derek was standing on my little front porch.

"Derek," I croaked out in total shock. I relaxed only a little and pressed one hand to my chest while I attempted to slow my breathing and will my heart rate to do the same. "What... what are you doing here?"

He lowered his shades and quirked an eyebrow at my bedraggled appearance. "Were you still asleep? It's almost lunch on a Tuesday."

Instantly self conscious of my appearance, I hugged my robe around me and made a vain attempt to tame my wild hair with my fingers. I was nearly mortified over having been caught looking like a hot mess. But only nearly.

"I was catching up on some rest," I explained, frowning in defiance of his obvious disapproval. "I haven't been feeling well lately."

"Yeah, I see that." Derek wiped at something imaginary on his left cheek, and I hastily swiped away the bit of drool that lingered on my face while he looked on expectantly. "You gonna invite me in, or do I have to stand out here?"

"Oh, of course, sorry." I stepped back and opened the door wider, hastily glancing around to see if there was any aftermath from the night before still in view. Then I remembered that everything but dessert had happened next door, and that much had been cleaned up before Myles left. "Can I get you some coffee or something?"

"Nah, I'm good. I had my morning coffee this morning," he said pointedly. "Not everyone wastes their mornings in bed."

"Good for you. What I do with my day off is my business," I snapped back, already irritated that not only had he interrupted some of the best sleep I'd gotten in weeks, but he also felt it appropriate to chastise me for it while standing in my living room. "What did you want? If you called before you came, I didn't hear it in the midst of my very deep, very restful, and much needed sleep."