The first time Saturday is the worst day of the week.

Saturday is usually my favorite day of the week: sleep in, putter around the house in pajamas for a while, eat a big breakfast/brunch, relax...but this past Saturday was the anti-Saturday Saturday.  Let me give you a breakdown:

-Wake up at 8:00 a.m. to a pounding on the door.  Jump out of bed thinking it's the contractor arriving early.  Repeatedly and unsuccessful try to stuff my dead/asleep arm into my sweatshirt while answering Blake's groggy "whhaaaat?" with "he's here...he's here...the guy...the guy..."

-Race down to the door and discover that it was not the contractor.

- Lay back down in bed, flustered, confused and unable to get back to sleep.

- Wake up to 8:30 Marimba alarm to get ready for the waterproofing contractor scheduled to come between 9:00 - 10:00.

-Wait for four hours while contractor doesn't show up.

- Paint basement puppet theater and get intoxicated with fumes from the decidedly high-VOC magnetic primer.

- Shower quickly, but forgo washing hair for the fourth day in a row due to perpetual lateness.

- Drive carefully to Mr. Tire on gimpy spare and almost-flat front passenger side tire for 2:30 appointment.

- Listen as the assistant manager declares that they will not honor warranty or road hazard insurance because the cause of two flats on relatively new tires is unknown.

- Listen to Blake and said assistant manager argue about warranty and other issues.

- Sit for 4.5 hours in Mr. Tire with Blake and nothing to do. 

- Get stomach-ache and headache from smelling horrible rubber smell for 4.5 hours.

- Get stressed enough to declare that any more time in Mr. Tire would result in a self-indulging J.Crew and Dunkin' Donut shopping spree.

- Pay a fortune for two new tires and a re-alignment. 

- Think about how many nice things could be bought at J.Crew with this fortune.

- Drive home too tired and upset to do anything except pick up a pizza, put on pajamas, and veg in front of the TV for the rest of the evening.