I’m having a bit of a bad morning.

I’ve been really looking forward to Sock Wars III. It’s a silly game where you knit a pair of socks to ‘kill’ your victim with, then they send you their socks and you proceed to knit away and try to kill their victim too, and so on down the list, until someone sends you socks, ending your run.

I did it two years ago and had a blast. I missed the sign ups last year by a day or so and was disappointed, so this year I’ve been stalking the creator and signed up months ago for Sock Wars III.

The site was a bit confusing and I did receive an email saying to go and fill in more information, but I couldn’t find the right place, and then I saw something shiny, and I never remembered to go back.

The creator (or the Generalissimo) planned to send out an email three days before the start to remind people to finish the sign up process, but a death in the family slowed her down (how dare she?) and the emails only went out about 24hrs before the start. Of course, that was the day my email chose to go wonky and I only got the reminder this morning.

There I was, poised with my (expensive) yarn and my needles, waiting for my dossier to arrive, and instead I got this reminder. Eek! Wonder if I was one of those people she mentioned who hadn’t filled in all their information. I popped on over to the site (where I had logged in a mere ten minutes before) only to find that I could no longer log in, and that the site claimed to have never heard of me.

I’d been purged.

I was a casualty of war before the war even began.

It sounds ridiculous but I was SO disappointed. I was in quite the funk.

Oh well, I thought, I have my Mother’s Day Tea at A’s school this morning. That’ll cheer me up.

I had not heard official word about this, somehow, just a mention somewhere, so I had emailed the teacher to ask the time.

I admit I wasn’t as early as I had hoped to be, but I arrived with three minutes to spare…only to find everyone seated and eating and chatting and me feeling uncomfortable. Instead of shaking it off I spent a fair amount of time feeling annoyed at myself for screwing up AGAIN.  (although, as it turns out, the teacher had given me the wrong time.)

Then, there was a note about the upcoming field trip that seemed to imply I was supposed to have made travel arrangements for Angus. Now I know there had been no details about this, so I finally had something other than myself to be annoyed  with. But it didn’t help. 

So I shouted at Angus in the car when he was disobedient (cookie-powered strop) and then he calmed down and cheered up.

I’m trying to be a grown up and do the same. But sometimes it’s hard, you know?


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