Monday, March 1, 2010

Sometimes Multitasking Isn’t What It’s “Cracked” Up To Be

I am one of those people who find it impossible to do just one thing at a time. If I’m not putting away laundry, while fixing dinner, as I am on the phone with a telemarketer, and pulling Elyse off of the dining room table, then I am not performing to my full potential. It just seems wrong to devote all of my attention to one task when there are so many things that need to be tended to. Would Super Woman be caught dead performing just one mundane activity at a time? I don’t think so. However, on Saturday I was NOT Superwoman and this happened…
See, there is supposed to be a windshield where that shattered hole is.  How did I do it you ask?  Multitasking.

Last week was a baaaaadddddddddd, BAD week.  Frustration levels ran high as did escape plans and day dreams of far away deserted islands.  Come Friday I was a mess and I was so thankful to have Mike home for the weekend.  Heh, heh, heh sucker! 


After a fantastic Saturday morning pancake/sausage breakfast, Mike offered me the option to escape alone to get groceries and I jumped on it faster than Octo Mom on a willing donor.  On my way to get the groceries, I stopped to get gas and I thought, "Gee, that back windshield is so dirty.  Perhaps I will take a moment to clean it whilst the van is guzzling down gas like its dollar draft night.  I washed the crap out of the window and when I was done, it was so sparkly I could see my face in it.  Satisfied that even though the van was filthy, I at least had a clean back windshield, I headed onward and upward to conquer the groceries.

After the groceries were taken care of, I drove through Wendy's to get the kids some lunch and then headed back home, mostly willingly, because I was excited to put the new windshield wipers on the van that I had picked up while shopping.  We have only needed new wipers for about two months now, so I was all giddy to see what it would look like when I washed the windshield with brand new wiper blades.  Hey, sometimes it's the little things, you know.

So I pulled the van into the garage, hopped out, and opened the back hatch to get the wiper blades.  But then while I stood there opening them I realized, "Hey, you don't know how to put on wiper blades.  This could take a while."  And so I decided that it would be better to get the kids their lunch and then run back down to the garage to get back to the business of replacing the blades. 

Here is where multitaking comes in...

When I had opened the back hatch to get the wiper blades, I realized that I had parked a little far out into the driveway and I was going to have to stand in a ton of snow to get the rest of the groceries.  So I thought, "Hmmm, I will just pull up a little so that when I come back, the van will be in the right place and I can get right to those groceries after the wiper blade thing."  BUT...I kinda forgot that the hatch was open; well, until I heard the crunch.  I got out and yep, the hatch was stuck under the beam of the garage ceiling.  I tried to pull it down, but it was stuck real nice.  So I did the only logical thing which was to back out again, and so I did.  I backed out just far enough until I heard the whole window shatter into about a billion pieces.

I wanted to laugh.  I wanted to cry.  I wanted to vomit.  I did NOT want to have to walk upstairs to tell Mike what had just happened.  Maybe he won't notice?  But I hung my head and went to tell him that Super Woman was defeated by a garage ceiling.  Stupid ceiling.  Lucky for me, Mike isn't one of those husbands who scream and yell and flip out over these kinds of things and he accepted it rather well.  He got right on top of calling someone to fix it and filing the insurance claim and the whole deal.  Someone will be here tomorrow to take care of it.  Thanks Honey!

So that's what I did on Saturday.  Have you done any multitasking lately?


Tina said...

I think all mothers multi-task. I am glad no one was hurt, that is the most important thing. I hate when I do something bad, and then have to go and tell the hubby. Usually Brian is calm, but I still hate to say the words, "Honey you would not believe just what happened."