By the time I got off work on Friday, I had been on the clock for somewhere in the vicinity of ten hours. Give or take a few minutes. It had been a really long week, with what felt like very little sleep involved. And realistically? It really wasn't that much sleep. On average last week, I only got about 4 hours of sleep a night. Like I said, it had been a long week.
So I was driving down my street, thinking about the million and one things I still had to do that night before I could call it quits. I knew that there was no way I was even going to be able to LOOK at my pj's until at least midnight, let alone get out of the uncomfortable but unfortunately absolutely necessary upper torso binding device that all women wear, but those of us who have had children are forevermore unable to go without. I was not looking forward to another four to five hours in that thing, is all I'm saying.
My new next door neighbors have a rather large truck, and a long flatbed trailer that they had parked in front of our house as they were moving in a couple of weeks ago. (Stay with me here. This comes together nicely in a minute.) So when I saw the truck and trailer parked in the street as I turned the corner, I just assumed that they had been finishing up their move. As I drove down the street, there was a small group of teenage boys in front of the driveway on their skateboards. I didn't recognize them, but figured they were just using that area for some reason known only to them, and as long as they didn't move too many of the rocks from my front yard onto the sidewalk, I didn't really care. So I motioned to them that I needed to turn into that driveway, and could they please move. They all looked at me like I was off my rocker. I mean, why would I want to get into that driveway? So I said (although my windows were rolled up, so I can't be sure they heard me), "Boys, its my house, that's my driveway, and I want to put my vehicle into it." And then I made little shooing motions with my hands. One of them shrugged his shoulders, they all grabbed their boards, and they moved out of the way. I proceeded to pull around the massive truck parked in front of the house, and into the driveway.
Which is when I looked up at the house numbers. I'm not sure why I did, only that its something I seem to do on a fairly regular basis. I don't know. Maybe I'm subconsciously thinking that while I've been away, some strange "house swap" would have occurred? Regardless, I looked up at the house numbers there by the garage door.
Oh crap. This was not my house. This was not my driveway. Oh.My.Gawd.
I quickly backed out, and looked at the boys standing there laughing at me. Held my hands up in an "Oops, sorry about that" gesture, and proceeded to drive along to my own house. Two doors down. Where my own teenager met me in the garage, and didn't have a skateboard anywhere near him.
When I told him what I had just done (and no, I have no idea why I told him that, only that it was obviously in the front of my mind when he asked how my day had gone; and NO, Coach still does not know this happened. Why on earth would I want to give that man any more reason to consider me the comic relief in his life??), he started laughing. Hysterically. And then gave me what is probably a brilliant piece of advice.
Um, Mom? You might want to start getting some sleep sometime soon.
Yeah. Maybe. That, or we could just move. You know... two doors down. Since I already know how to find THAT house.