On a Scale of 1-10...

Today was a TEN.

A twitchy-eyeball-bleeding, hair-pulling, spirit-crushing 10.

My employee quit while my mother is visiting, the day before she and I were supposed to have our ONE day together. He decided to retract his two-weeks' notice and make it a two-days' notice. I succeeded in not killing him ONLY because he succeeded in evading the store, going so far as to text my husband to meet him elsewhere so he wouldn't have to come in to give me the key. This is probably better, since I wanted to rip his ears off of his head and stuff them in his nostrils. Of course, he demanded his check immediately, because God forbid he would have to wait until payday to get it, that is SO INCONVENIENT.

A photo of my ex-employee, the cat turd

Oh, and in case you missed it up there, YES. MY MOTHER IS VISITING. Cue the rending of garments and the rubbing of ashes onto the forehead. Also the wailing and gnashing of teeth.

And as if that wasn't enough. AS IF THAT WAS NOT ENOUGH!! Charlie has been suffering from diarrhea (like the really, really, TMI bad kind) for the past four days. I took him to the doctor the other day, and in the waiting room, as I hacked up a lung, the nurse was all, "Charlie?" looking at me, and I said, "Yes, that's him," pointing to my seemingly healthy child, and she was all, "What about you?" with that look that makes you feel like you are being sent to the corner with no supper. And I was all, "He is the one pooping like a firehose every five minutes." And right on schedule, Charlie tugged on my shirt, exposing my bra, yelling, "MAMA! I HAFTA GO POOPIES!!"

The poor little kid, I feel so bad for him. He woke up this morning, had diarrhea, then barfed as I was washing his hands. I just held him until he went back to sleep, then I had to get ready to go to work and leave him with the lions (my mother) while I worked all day today. Fucking work. I just wanted to be there with my sick kid. I feel so helpless when he is not feeling well. Like there is nothing I can do.

Argh.

So. That was my day.

ETA: Oh, yeah, so the thousands of dollars would be the plane tickets I bought for myself and Charlie that we are supposed to use to go out of town for ten days in a couple weeks. And now the fate of my trip has been thrown into uncertainty, as I may not be able to leave the shop now. FUCKING A.