(Keep in mind this is also after a weekend where my Blackhawks had not one but TWO games IN THE BAG and then lost, AND one of my favorite players got injured so badly he'll be out for the rest of the season AND I found out that I'm not supposed to "aggravate" my ankle for pretty much until I go to tech school, unless I want to be killed by certain people who worked hard to get me into said tech school, which means no martial arts, so I wasn't really on a good streak anyway.)
6:30a: Instead of being woken up by my favorite songs, as usual, I wake up to a very faint beeping noise. My phone apparently hadn't gotten fully plugged into the clock and wasn't triggered by the alarm. The clock compensates by making a pathetic buzzing. Not a fun wake-up call.
7:30a: Feeling pretty good for being ready not just on time, but early, despite the alarm clock and having to wear blues today. Step outside to decide if I want my jacket or not, and the door promptly blows shut behind me, locking me out. Luckily, the maintenance guy lives across from me.
7:40a: Leave for work, feeling lucky that I did not hit the sides of the garage door while backing out (I have a fear of that, our garages are narrow!) on a day when luck is clearly not on my side. But now I'm ready, I have my stuff, I'm on the road to work on time despite Fate so far.
8:00a: Stop at the last stoplight before the road turns into the highway and decide to take a sip of my iced coffee to celebrate still being on time. Just as I think "hey, that's not the lid they usually put on these cups," said lid and said cup decide to separate in my hands, and iced coffee literally explodes all over my car. It's all over my uniform, on my face. It's dripping from my hair, and the steering wheel, and the dashboard, and has completely FLOODED the center console, which of course houses my phone, phone jack/radio, and Bluetooth headset when I'm driving. I manage to pull over after the light changes, rescue the phone from its coffee bath, manage to send a text to my captain, and the thing promptly dies.
8:10a: Manage to get turned around to head home to change, swearing vehemently over the apparently dead phone, the stained uniform, and the cold iced coffee puddle I'm now sitting in. Am stopped at an intersection, my light turns green, I start into the intersection, and manage to slam on the brakes in time to avoid getting t-boned by some friggin idiot who decided the red light didn't apply to him. Now I'm cold, wet, stained, phoneless, pissed AND shaken. And I haven't even made it to work yet!
8:30a: Finally make it home and get the car cleaned out enough to at least be not completely gross. Park sideways between the garages so I can easily get to the Dumpster with the sopping wet paper towels. Dry the electronics off as best as I can, and turn them off. (Phone does decide to work properly upon rebooting, which I am extremely thankful for.) Decide to leave my car parked where it is while I run upstairs to change into any clean blues I have available. I have my long sleeve shirt (which requires the tie tab, which must be straight) and my skirt (which I don't mind wearing usually but requires hose rather than socks). Am halfway through changing when the doorbell rings. Decide to ignore the doorbell, as I'm still in the process of buttoning up my shirt, and hear the complex manager start yelling and banging on the door asking if I was okay. Realize I'm going to have to deal with her unless I want the entire building's attention and jerk the rest of my uniform on. Apparently she saw my car parked at the odd angle and immediately assumed something must be terribly wrong. Assure her things are (relatively speaking) fine and head out the door again, remembering to grab an old towel to sit on in the car.
8:50a: Get another coffee from McD's, adamantly telling the lady that they'd better put the right lid on it this time. It was a different lady, so she probably thinks I'm insane.
9:30a: Finally make it to work, and realize after I've checked in with the captain that my belt is not even close to being straight with the rest of my uniform. Get my orders for tech school. Try to find out what I'm supposed to bring and where/who I'm supposed to report to when. No one knows, and there's no information online. Training NCO promises to look into it.
10:30a: Go to the shared printer to get a course outline I'm working on and notice the guy who's taking over the student flight has printed out some information for them about Basic. Some of it is no longer current. Feel the need to let him know this and end up spending the next hour and a half arguing with him about how BMT actually is versus how he thinks it should be.
12:00n: Look down at my legs during the above conversation and realize there's not just a run, but a large hole in my nylons. Right on the back of the knee, very visible. Make a run to the BX to get new hose.They don't have the size and color I really want, so I have to settle for a darker color.
1:00p: Back to work and have absolutely no concentration on the job at hand. Decide to continue research, thinking Training NCO will come get me when she's ready to go talk to the people she wanted to go talk to with me. Resurface four hours later, having not found anything I was originally looking for but lots of fascinating things that had absolutely relevance whatsoever. Consider the day absolutely wasted at work, and feel guilty that I actually got paid for it.
4:30p: Get halfway home before remembering that I'd wanted to stop at the commissary for groceries so I wouldn't have to stop in town in uniform. Decide I have stuff for spaghetti at home and continue on.
5:00p: Get home. No spaghetti noodles. There are lasagna noodles, though. Get the bright idea to put them in one of my disposable mini bread pans layered with some of my sauce and throw it in to the oven even though I don't have any cheese for a real lasagna. Feel pleased with my brilliant idea and get out a bottle of cheap white zinfindel. Press the corkscrew against the cork, which immediately pops DOWN into the bottle, splashing wine everywhere. Come very close to throwing things around the room in frustration.
5:15p: Open box of lasagna noodles to start layering the whateverI'mmaking while the oven preheats. Pull one out, and am greeting by several little black faces looking at me. There are BUGS in my unopened box of lasagna noodles. (Granted, I have no idea how long I've had the box, it was in the very back of the pantry.) EW. No pasta tonight. Settle for frozen pizza again. I do love pizza, but I'd just had it the night before.
7:00p: Tune in the hockey channels and realize Detroit is getting beat. Watch that game for a few minutes before realizing that with the way my luck has been going, if I keep watching and cheering for the Flames, literal flames will probably start raining down on the rink, mass hysteria will break out, and Detroit will end up winning. (Sure enough, they did, too. Without the carnage and mass hysteria, though. Unless you count being a Red Wings fan as a hysteria.) Instead, hook up the laptop to the tv (which was actually successful for some reason) and continue getting caught up on Season Two of Castle, which I am very behind on. Have brief text convo with my brother, who I am trying to convince to come out to visit. Am unsuccessful again.
10:00p: Come online to check scores and email and start this post. Curse seems to be fading - one of my magic crew is able to go with me to the game on Thursday. The Sharks apparently lost to the Ducks (who saw THAT coming?!) last night, which cuts their playoff lead over us to only two points. That's the best news I've had all day. And the way my day has gone, I'm going to take it and end on a good note. Tomorrow can't be worse, right??
1 comment:
Poor baby.....
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