It was not a good day.
Work was very slow.
Chris's daycare called at 12:30 to let me know that they were not going to run their van today, so they could not pick him up from school.
What exactly is that that I am paying them quite a bit of money to do?
Instead of being frustrated, I just simply said, "Well, I'm glad we've paid you for this service" and hung up. Another of the daycare workers (Miss Mary from Just 4 Us on Highway 94 if you are keeping score) called me back at work to tell me some more reasons why they just couldn't possibly run the van today, and just basically bawl me out. I told her we'd had quite enough of Just 4 Us, thank you, and to please never pick my son up again. To which she said, "That's fine with us."
Apparently I was paying them not only to not pick up my son, but also for their incredible tact and inspiring customer service skills.
After leaving work three hours early, I arrived at Chris's school to find every other daycare fan in the area patiently waiting in line to pick up their charges at the end of the day.
I have had lingering anger all evening, to the point I think I understand what makes people go "postal" a bit too much. I need some tea and a sleeping pill. Or just a cigarette. Fifteen months is not enough time to kill that craving.