One of those days

Some days, I wonder whether I'd have been better off just pulling the covers over my head, shooting the cat, and refusing to greet the day. I've had a few of them this week.

• Jake has inexplicably decided that the new 'rise and shine' time for his humans is somewhere around 5:45 am. Needless to say, we did not reach this decision by consensus. 
• Furthermore, someone has maliciously posted my cell phone and home phone numbers on the bulletin boards of all call centers: political, credit card, general survey, and even CVS Pharmacy. Why the world has suddenly decided that my opinion counts, I do not know.
• My brain and my hands have spontaneously decided to disconnect, wreaking havoc on any small task I decide to undertake. I'm dropping, spilling, breaking and misplacing things in record numbers.
• I used to be able to cook. Somehow this week, pie crusts are turning out tough and uncuttable and the fillings aren't gelling. The cake I made today whispered (as I put it in the oven) that I'd neglected to add the second installment of sugar that was supposed to combine with the egg whites. (Let's see: that was 9 eggs that were sacrificed unnecessarily, not to mention the cake flour and whole milk that I had to buy because I generally operate with all-purpose and reduced fat varieties. Not to mention the fact that I had used so many bowls and cups and spoons that I had to run the dishwasher.) I guess it's a good thing JC was traveling this week. Otherwise, he'd have been totally disabused of his enthusiasm for my meals. Did I mention that this morning's bacon was the consistency of my shoe?
• And workmen. Ah, workmen. Our AC was due for its annual checkup on Thursday, and the technician called me at 9 AM, well within the 8AM-12 noon window they demanded. He was here, he told me, but couldn't find my house. Was it the 'orange' one on the corner? (There is no orange house on my block.) He could not see any number. As I walked outside to look for his truck, I saw the problem. His truck was sitting in the middle of the street, in front of my house, his gaze riveted on the pink house across from mine. His head was turned to the right, which explained why he could not see the black, eminently readable numbers proclaiming "500" directly above my door. I asked him to turn his head to the left and he would see the house, the numbers--and me,  gesticulating wildly to attract his attention.
• Eric (for that was his name) did his inspection and proceeded to catalogue his recommendations. I thanked him and told him that, as he was talking in the neighborhood of thousands of dollars, and since we'd observed no problems with the unit, I would get a second opinion before deciding whether or not to proceed. Signed the paper saying I'd heard him out, and ushered him to the door.
• Several minutes after he left, the phone rang. It was his company, wanting to schedule someone to evaluate my AC system. Uh, didn't we just do that? No, ma'am. That was the MAINTENANCE inspection. This would be a supervisor to EVALUATE the system, and was this afternoon all right? In total bewilderment, I said no. That I had better things to do than wait out their 4-hour window twice in one day. I politely said that if they HAD to come evaluate, they could give me a hard-and-fast appointment or they could wave goodbye to this particular customer of some thirty-five years. We decided on 8 AM Friday.
• To my relief, the technician who appeared Friday was a familiar face--James. As baffled as I, he said they had told him to come out to check Eric's assessment of the system. All of a sudden, it became clear that Eric had interpreted my intention to get a second opinion as requesting a second opinion from another technician in his company. Oh. Obviously, second opinions are acquired differently in whatever Latin American nation Eric had worked in before.
• James spoke English. James answered the questions Eric had not been able to. And basically, our AC system gets put back in its place on our priority list.
• Then...my sister called to warn me that mom wasn't feeling well and might possibly require a trip to Baltimore on our part before the weekend was up. Maybe. Just another thing to look forward to.

So. Still needing a dessert for tomorrow's dinner-with-friends, I have to decide whether to attempt the sugar-deficient cake a second time, or move on to something else entirely-- or maybe just throttle the cat and go back to bed. It's sounding better all the time.