Where has my day gone?

It's a classic refrain, isn't it? What happened to my day? Only 5 minutes ago I was greeting the sunrise and now I'm preparing for the onslaught of homework, snack, channel-flipping, and miscellaneous outrageous requests. Where did the time go? I now have a little more insight into that age-old question:

I rolled out of bed a bit early this morning feeling chipper and ready to seize the day. I got all dressed for a chilly walk in the park and then due to a bit of poor planning on Madison's part, she missed the bus, setting into motion this entire chain of events...

First I have to yell and scream at Madison, then begrudgingly drive her late derriere to school. On the way out of the school parking lot, I remember that the dog is out of diapers and swing by the pet store, but they don’t open for another ½ hour. I decide to go home and grab some breakfast while checking my email. I get a sale flyer from Victoria’s Secret which reminds me that I have about $300 worth of merchandise that I bought online that doesn’t fit my fat ass and needs to be returned, so I pack it all up and spend 18 minutes looking for my tape gun (never find it – use duct tape instead). Run back down to my office to grab my phone where I see an email from a client who I printed brochures for back in February and haven't yet billed ($960). So, I create an invoice and get that out.

While attending to my little accounting matter, I receive a Facebook notification from my sister in law asking an urgent question, so I log on to answer her and see that a friend from high school whom I haven’t seen in 25 years finally posted family pictures that I have to pore over immediately, then see what everyone else is up to today, and take a quiz or two or nine.

Then I realize that the pet store has been open for over an hour and Missy is still wearing her diaper from last night and I need to get to the store pronto before she begins attracting woodland creatures from surrounding zip codes. I scoop her up to bring with me so I can show off her beautiful coat to the groomer (who owns the pet store) and notice that she desperately needs to be brushed after chasing Rascal around the dewey yard. I brush her out, re-do her top knot and head out the door where I see a check from CafePress that’s been sitting on the front table for a week and needs to be cashed.

I put the dog down, endorse the check, put the check between my teeth, grab the dog, the package that needs to be returned, my purse and keys and juggle it all out to the car. I get to the pet store and find out they don’t carry dog diapers.

We chat for 10 minutes about less expensive alternatives, then I rush into the grocery store where I spend another 20 minutes evaluating the 472 different choices of baby diapers wondering if a 10-lb baby is equivalent to a 10-lb dog. I finally find the cheapest package (without aloe, Sesame Street characters, glow-in-the-dark stars, nighttime protection, or elastic legs) when I am seized with a sudden craving for chocolate covered strawberries. While in the produce aisle, I also get bananas and a coconut.

I hit the self-checkout lane and rush home where I have a 20 minute discussion with Steve about Madison and Basketball (and the psychological ramifications of her not being prepared for this weekend's tournament). I look at my watch and it's 12:42!!!!

And I wonder why every evening ends with the same thought: Where has this day gone????? And can I get any of it back?