Today sucked. SUCKED.
In true Tuesday fashion, things were less than amazing, but I didn't have to go to work today so I thought I'd have a nice productive day full of errands, charities, healing the sick and afflicted and maybe even an evening of hot make out action. Little did I know what was in store...
I woke up. This in itself was not unusual so I didn't right away have any "Bad Day" Omens. I took a shower. This is also fairly usual practice. What, did you think I was some kind of free-loving hippie bastard? Anyway I went to the cupboard to pour myself a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, the breakfast of champions. The box was there, but the contents were not. . . ALYSSA MARIE SCOTT. YOU BITCH!.
Then there wasn't any milk. Man, did I have a BAD DAY OMEN for breakfast. And a banana. Mmm, potassium.
Anyway I headed over to the library to return a book (Yes, I do know how to read, although in this case I just got it for the pop-up pictures). Do you know what happened upon exit walking through the parking lot? DO YOU KNOW?
I didn't think that really happened to people that weren't walking home from parties or too short to be seen in the rearview mirror (ie children and people with no legs). Supposedly and sadly, this also sometimes happens to dogs and bicycles, but not to Jill. Yet here I am minding my own business when this guy doesn't look and backs up super fucking fast and rams me with his multi-paneled early 80's Dodge Aries. I didn't even know those things could still gain speed. I'd make a report, but I don't know what color the vehicle was. Blue? Yellow? Rust? He hit me hard enough to knock me over. I skinned my elbow. He did apologize, but really the only way to make amends for something like that is to buy me ice cream, which he did not. Asshole.
The day was not over. It was far from over. I had to go to the grocery store to get Cinnamon Toast Crunch and milk and bananas and now ice cream. You know those stupid shoes that are also roller skates? Little kids wear them. Little kids that need to be hit by a 1981 Dodge Aries. There I am minding my own business once again in the milk aisle, trying to decide if I want a paper or plastic half gallon carton. These are big, every day decisions that affect not only our personal refridgerator, but also the world around us. There is a sample table nearby where a lady is demoing chocolate silk soy milk. I thought I had enough of that damn stuff when I lived with vegans. Then this little brat on wheels loses control of his footing (*NOTE TO PARENTS, THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN IN REGULAR SHOES) and he smashes into her table and about 20 dixie cups of soy milk splatter ALL OVER ME. As compensation, I would like a free Thanksgiving turkey. And my damn ice cream.
I chose plastic, by the way. The more money we spend on chemicals means the better chance I have of getting a job.
I came home. I was dirty and injured. I would withstand no more. I had mail.
When there were 5 girls living in The Vault, someone was almost always parked in. On one such occasion, it was KATIE and I was the one parking her in. She had to go do some shit one day but I was feeling lazy so I just gave her my car keys. She got a parking ticket. She forgot to pay that parking ticket. I didn't know she had a parking ticket until I got the "if you don't pay this in 10 days it will be $50 and from then on up" letter in the mail and while I was exclaiming that I didn't know what it was about she confessed, took the letter, and promised to take care of it.
Katie, I'm going to kill you. You never paid it. You know how I know? THE $200 FINE I GOT IN THE MAIL TODAY.
You're married to a doctor. Pay up! Or.. or.. Well, I don't know. I'll think of something threatening on a day when I haven't been driven and skated over.
Then I stubbed my toe.
I don't know if I have any make out action left in me. Unless someone wants to spoon-feed me my ice cream?
Or give me a banana..