Today is my day off. Well, kind of. I only have three walks, which during the summer is a day off. Nagging in the back of my head was this one email I had to respond to, ok and two texts, but it's my day off so no big deal.
My day off started with a client calling at 7:25 am to cancel their visit for next week. Why this was so urgent that it needed to happen before coffee, I don't know. Then I went to go walk Mrs. C's dogs and chit chat a bit with her, with this thought of that one email and two texts still in the back of my head. When I got out to walk her dogs, I decided to go ahead and call my dog walking counterpart to get the information I needed so I could at least respond to the texts while walking. It's my day off, I don't want a to-do list.
While on the phone with my counterpart, a car was coming, one dog pooped, and another client was trying to call. All I could do was breathe, stand and wait for call waiting to stop beeping, the car to pass, and the dog to finish. Ok got that done and reiterated what I was trying to tell my counterpart.
I get off the phone with her, listen to my voicemail, and text back the person who called and the original person I needed to text plus one more which required a quick calculation of how much she owes. The dogs are loving this because they get to stop and sniff pretty much everything.
I get that done and then my counterpart calls back with an answer. Great, things are moving along. I walk the dog back to Mrs. C's and turn the sound off on my phone so we can chat some more.
By the time I get to my next client's house, I have a missed call, voicemail, texts ... everybody wants a walk, a favor, a reschedule, or to know that their dog has pooped.
I swear to all that is good, everyone must have gotten together and said "Hey, do you know what would be really funny? Let's all need the Knotty Dog Walker the exact second things slow down for her." Insert evil cackling laughs.
Real funny, guys. Hilarious.
Walking the next dog, trying to see if I can reschedule a walk and then finally deciding to turn it down since the person is usually home anyway, another text (I think we're on needy person #6 for those of you keeping count at home) comes in asking for very specific visits this weekend because the cats are on a new diet.
And so, in this quiet respectable neighborhood full of squeaky-clean-hearted elderly folk, I did it. I dropped the eff bomb. Not unlike Ralphie in the Christmas Story.
I covered my mouth and looked up from my phone to see the horrified retired gardener on whom my bomb was dropped. "I'm sorry!" I stammered, "It's my day off and everyone needs me. You know that feeling?"
Apparently she didn't. Either she was hard of hearing or terribly offended because she just looked at me. The Cairn Terrier and I tucked our tails between our legs and hurried along.
When I got back to the conservative Christian client's house, I confessed my sin and told her what her extremely unprofessional dog walker did. This is, of course, the kind of neighborhood in which the rumor of my sailor-talking filthy-mouthed rampage must have gotten to her house and back around the block already. I was just waiting for the DIY curse jar arts crafts project to begin. Or perhaps some pamphlets on how Jesus can love me through my swearing problem.
"Well," she said. "I'm sure she's heard it before and I'll even guess she might have said it once or twice herself. If anyone calls you unprofessional, you just send them to me and I'll set them straight."
Point for team Knotty Dog Walker. And Jesus.