I had an "I Hate Kenya" day today.
I woke up early hoping to get some things done around my cottage before going to work. My shower annoyed me because it no longer sprays straight down and instead sprays all directions, making it even more difficult to rinse my hair with the already-low water pressure that now sprays the wall more than it does me. (Every time we run out of water and then get it back again, sediment gets washed through the pipes, and my shower head is now blocked with mud, but has thoroughly resisted my efforts to disassemble it.) I add this to my list of "things to ask for repair", at the same time calculating how long this repair will probably take in "Kenya time", and get more annoyed that I can't just run to Home Depot, buy a tool, and do it myself.
I washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen, then had coffee while checking e-mails. The internet cut out every few minutes, so I waste about an hour trying to load a few e-mails.
I mopped my floor and deck and then got ready for the priority of the day: taking 6 kids to the dentist. It had rained all night and the ground was really muddy, so I really debated which shoes to wear since it's inconvenient to traipse around town and the dentist office in knee high rubber boots which would be the best choice. I ended up putting on my rubber strap-on sandals. I needed to drop off a box of supplies at the pharmacy and pick up a medication, then go to the office to get my transportation request approved and signed and then go round up the kids so we could leave on time. I dropped off the box of supplies and then on my way to the office stepped in a particularly soft and unexpectedly deep mud hole, thoroughly coating my entire shoe, foot, and lower part of my jeans in gritty, red, slime. I was closest to the pharmacy, so I turned around and went back to wash the mud-sock off my leg. I get inside and discover there is no water. I slowly smeared the mud off my foot, leg and jeans with wet-wipes and a few paper towels, then ditched my mud covered sandals and changed into the croc shoes that I wear around the pharmacy. Stepping very carefully, I made it to the office and got my transport request signed, then decided to run back to my cottage and get tennis shoes and a clean pair of jeans. I am once again running out the door when my phone rings and the dentist now informs me that they are going on strike today, so I shouldn't come to town because no one will treat us.
I go back to the office to my smiling, well-dressed, teeth-just-brushed kids and inform them they can all go back home and get muddy because our dentist appointment is canceled, and we will do this whole routine another day.
Then I went to the Baby Home to kiss some babies.
I woke up early hoping to get some things done around my cottage before going to work. My shower annoyed me because it no longer sprays straight down and instead sprays all directions, making it even more difficult to rinse my hair with the already-low water pressure that now sprays the wall more than it does me. (Every time we run out of water and then get it back again, sediment gets washed through the pipes, and my shower head is now blocked with mud, but has thoroughly resisted my efforts to disassemble it.) I add this to my list of "things to ask for repair", at the same time calculating how long this repair will probably take in "Kenya time", and get more annoyed that I can't just run to Home Depot, buy a tool, and do it myself.
I washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen, then had coffee while checking e-mails. The internet cut out every few minutes, so I waste about an hour trying to load a few e-mails.
I mopped my floor and deck and then got ready for the priority of the day: taking 6 kids to the dentist. It had rained all night and the ground was really muddy, so I really debated which shoes to wear since it's inconvenient to traipse around town and the dentist office in knee high rubber boots which would be the best choice. I ended up putting on my rubber strap-on sandals. I needed to drop off a box of supplies at the pharmacy and pick up a medication, then go to the office to get my transportation request approved and signed and then go round up the kids so we could leave on time. I dropped off the box of supplies and then on my way to the office stepped in a particularly soft and unexpectedly deep mud hole, thoroughly coating my entire shoe, foot, and lower part of my jeans in gritty, red, slime. I was closest to the pharmacy, so I turned around and went back to wash the mud-sock off my leg. I get inside and discover there is no water. I slowly smeared the mud off my foot, leg and jeans with wet-wipes and a few paper towels, then ditched my mud covered sandals and changed into the croc shoes that I wear around the pharmacy. Stepping very carefully, I made it to the office and got my transport request signed, then decided to run back to my cottage and get tennis shoes and a clean pair of jeans. I am once again running out the door when my phone rings and the dentist now informs me that they are going on strike today, so I shouldn't come to town because no one will treat us.
I go back to the office to my smiling, well-dressed, teeth-just-brushed kids and inform them they can all go back home and get muddy because our dentist appointment is canceled, and we will do this whole routine another day.
Then I went to the Baby Home to kiss some babies.
Oh, Rachel. You're such a good woman!! Those doctors / dentists going on strike puts me over the edge!!
ReplyDeleteOn bad days we like to sing the "I had a bad day" song to cheer us up. I can almost picture your mud sock! Praying for better days!
ReplyDelete