Confusion in the Ranks

Yeah, I know that's not the right cliche, but as many people have told me I'm terrible with cliches, seriously.  My brother still makes fun of me because instead of "recipe for disaster" I said "conglomeration for destruction" I know, I suck.  If you do know what this cliche is supposed to be, please comment, it's going to bother me for a while :P Unfortunately I can't wiki what I don't know :(.  On to the reason for this post.

This morning, while having an extremely weird dream (which involved Michael Landon from Little House on the Prairie, hugging me and saying "I've missed you so much Gorda May (ugh! Worst name in the WORLD, sorry all you Gorda Mays) and then being licked by some celebrity (really weird I know) I was woken up by the sound of my front bell ringing.  I had taken an allergy pill last night so for once my slumber was quite deep, and the lack of a six year old added to the pleasantness of it. Thus, when I emerged out of bed, dragging my half sleeping body towards the front door with memories of Michael Landon still fresh in my mind, I'm certain I terrified the poor boys who were waiting there. Boy scouts...DAMN the boy scouts.


Those poor kids.  They looked terrified, and sad thing I knew them. I see them every week in church, but I was so groggy I had no idea what their names were.  I stared at them in a stupor of fog and mumbled something about "just waking up".  Yeah, they scurried away.  They probably will tell their moms that I was still asleep at 9 am.  Curse the Boy Scouts of America...let me sleep damn you!

After that I couldn't sleep. 10:00 rolls around and I get a call from Sandra.  She tells me her daughter won't be at soccer today.  Like I care.  Oh wait, I think I registered my daughter for soccer too, too bad she's with her dad this weekend. So I call Sandra and she's like "oh, I called you because it says you are the coach." I laugh.  Seriously.  I kept laughing.  I played a game of soccer - once, for PE - in 5th grade, when I was eleven. That is the extend of my soccer abilities.  In fact that was the only year I played any sports.  I'm more of a TV/reading person. Oh well, coaching could be nice.

So, I rush down to the field which is in a town about 20 minutes away. The entire way there I'm psyching myself into accepting this chance at being a coach for an actual sport.  I nearly had a Braveheart speech ready by the time I got there. I walk on the field wearing sun glasses and hoping no one notices I didn't shower yet today.
  I try to look as cool as possible, I had been listening to rock and roll in the car and I was pumped.  I saunter onto the field, my intimidating reach of 4'11'' obviously will gain some sort of respect.  I'll round those little kiddies up and we'll have a go at kicking balls into hoops or whatever the hell soccer players do. Of course, the parents are all sitting in lawn chairs starring at their kids running around, kicking a ball.  A few junior high students are helping them out.  I ask for the chick in charge, (diane) but no one has seen her.  No one knows where anyone is.  No one has any idea what is going on, they are just watching their kids, hoping that's the coach.  I stand back and stare, completely deflated and at a loss as to what to do.  I don't even have a kid I can shove out onto the field and pretend I know what the hell I'm doing. 
I feel like I still haven't woken up fully and am looking around for Michael Landon to call me Gorda May again. 

Oh well.  I turn around and leave.  I'll talk to the soccer lady later. Maybe she'll explain why my name was on her website as a coach but no one told me first.  I don't care anymore.  I just want to go home and sleep :P