If you’re looking for a sign that the universe has a twisted sense of humor, welcome to my morning. It’s currently late afternoon, and I’ve lived approximately three lifetimes since my alarm (didn't) go off.
07:25 AM: The "Oh Shit" Incident
The day began not with a sunrise, but with the sound of trauma-flavored confetti, All I heard on the other side of my bedroom door was "SHIT"! My son dropped his vitamins—a bottle we spent years of habit-building to get him to take. Sir Parker (the therapy dog) was immediately on the scene, vibrating with the dual energy of "I sense your cortisol spiking" and "Is this a floor-buffet?".
08:00 AM: The Presidents' Day Ghost Town
I hauled the kid and the dog to college in a flurry of "We’re late!" adrenaline—only to pull up to a silent, empty campus. Presidents' Day. The Audacity: My 20-year-old (nearly 21!) looked me dead in the eye and decided it was my fault for not reminding him. We sat in the car and died laughing because at this point, the absurdity was the only thing left.
08:05 AM: Molasses & The Hallway Poop-Dance
We got home, I grabbed the packages at the entrance, and my bowels entered a terminal countdown. My son and the dog decided to move slower than molasses in the middle of January. There I was, stuck in the hallway of our apartment, hands full of Amazon boxes, doing the poop-dance while they took their sweet ass time getting to the door. And yes, that’s exactly when the phone decided to ring. I let it scream!
Mid-Day Revelation: "Your Hands Can Hear"
By noon, things got metaphysical. My second client dropped a truth bomb: Your hands can hear. The Science: Our fingertips are packed with Pacinian corpuscles—mechanoreceptors that detect high-frequency vibrations. Your skin is basically one giant ear, "hearing" the world through touch. "I Have Your Balls!" The vibe shifted from "hearing hands" to literal "balls." My client casually announced she had them—my Cranial Sacral Still Point Inducer. We both couldn't stop laughing. It was such a funny, human moment. I love that I’ve built a relationship with my clients where they feel safe enough to joke like that while we work. Despite the name, these "balls" are serious therapy. They apply pressure to the occipital ridge to create a "Still Point". This pauses the craniosacral rhythm to help the central nervous system shift from "Fight or Flight" to "Rest and Digest".
03:30 PM: The BarkBox Massacre & The Laundry Freeze
I walked back into the house and was immediately swept up in the ADHD Tornado.: My son met the 2:30 PM deadline for his chores, moving a million miles a minute with that "new game" energy. But because his support worker was there and we had a full-blown Family ADHD Moment, the system stalled. The laundry is still frozen. It didn't get done because our brains collectively exited the planet for a bit while the worker quietly observed the chaos. Meanwhile, Sir Parker performed a surgical extraction on his new BarkBox toy.
The "Off" Switch
I thought I was going to over-clean the apartment, but my brain just looked at the broom and said, "Absolutely not." The hyper-focus has left the building. My only remaining plans for the evening are:
1. Taking the dog for a walk (to find a reality where laundry doesn't exist).
2. Making a fish dinner.
3. Melting into the bed(recoup).
To everyone out there doing the "Poop-Dance" while the laundry stays frozen—you’re doing amazing. See you tomorrow (maybe... if I can get out of this bed).
