in the bleak midwinter

I'm pretty sure there's a chapter in one of Martha Stewart's books: "Nothing Says Welcome Like a Toilet That Just Won't Flush." So far today:

*the toilet has overflowed AND defied all efforts to be plunged
*when I needed to put the soaking wet towel that had toilet water on it into the washer I could not because I first needed to put away the mountain of folded clothes stacked neatly on top of the washer which really don't have a place to be put away because there is a baby living in our closet
*which made us late to meet friends at the park which meant we needed to take the car. Which was on empty.
*phone battery: dead
*forgot to take Hudson's food to the park which meant he had to eat when we got home which meant that he got to sit in the highchair first which made Harper so sad that she started crying inconsolably
* Hudson had been asleep approximately 30 minutes when the UPS guy knocked loudly on the door. Three different times because he kept forgetting things
*He goes back to sleep for around 4 minutes at which point the yard guys with their leaf blowers on full power start wandering aimlessly up and down right outside our apartment. Where there are no leaves.
*He is noisy, presumably because the world is noisy.
*Harper wakes up having slept about a third of her usual nap
* We have company arriving any minute.
*My hair is enormous, my clothes don't match, my back hurts from all the plunging.
I feel so gracious.