My Abortion of a Day
I should've stayed in bed today.
No, wait. That's not good enough. Let me try again.
In a previous life, I was a professional puppy-kicker.
That's about the only way to explain off the massive amount of karma I burned off today. I'd say I had paid up for next year's membership in the It Socks to Be Us Club, but I've already run that tally and calculated I'm good through the sun going cold.
So my car was broken into this morning. Yup, life beech-slapped me around 8:30am when I walked out to my beloved RSX to notice... No, wait, there was no "notice". Notice suggests the presence of an odd and previously unheard noise registering in your audial pathways. No, there was only "walk to the passenger side to dump my work sack and behold the thousands and thousands bits of tempered glass on my roof, on the asphalt, on the passenger seat, just about everywhere you could imagine save for the window frame of my passenger door. All of them twinkling in the morning sun, mocking me.
You can choose your expletive of choice because I pretty much muttered them all. Flowers wilted, young tender ears burned, the earth shuddered. I had to call TheCompany and tell them I may or may not be in, call the police to get a report, call glass companies and get estimates, realize my deductible is more and even if it weren't, I dare not make a claim for fear of my insurance dropping for... surprise, surprise... actually using it, then try to find a place that could actually do the job today. (They say 24/7 service - that's just for some bubble-gum-popping nail-filing type to take your call. No one said they'd actually do anything...) I finally found place, naturally quoting me more, but I had to wait until 3pm. So, not seeing a point in sitting at home fuming, not to mention racking up even more hours of work lost, I headed into the office.
(I'm not even going to touch my day at work. I mean, the lone bright spot is that my immediate boss is indeed a Cool Guy who was "do what you gotta do", but there was one person there who was working on my very last nerve and I swear it was only my not wanting to spend the afternoon in HR (or be sent home on a permanent basis) that stopped me from telling said person what was really on my mind. )
And naturally it rained. One bubble-gum-girl tried to convince me it was ok to wait until tomorrow to have my window fixed because, "There's no chance for rain today". I wanted to snap back "What state do you live in? Because it's not the state I live in." The radio-weather man said "20% in some locations". Well, if you're me, and you have busted car window with a couple of trash bag duct taped over it, the rain forecast is Metaphysical Certitude. And I don't mean some wussy little shower. No, I'm getting Dennis' Warm-Up Act. I literally had to scramble out to the parking lot and find some canopy near another building and ride out the 30 minute monsoon. During this time, I called Dudette for an impromptu It Socks to Be Us meeting, full of gallows humor because I was brushing up against that "I don't know whether to laugh or cry" feeling.
Finally 3pm rolled around, where I was privileged to lose yet even more time and pay 2 1/2 Benjamins for a replacement window. The repair man was nice enough to show me the small "scar" on the window frame where the "inexperienced thief" tried to pry the window open. Oh, goody, not only am I a victim of a crook, I'm a victim of a newbie crook. I feel so much better.
Ok, so life could be worse. My car could have been stolen. I could've been in London. But, as the saying goes, all things are relative. And relatively speaking, My. Day. Blew.
Geezamoli.
PS Apologies if what should be primo ranting falls a little short. Today has so stressed me out that I don't really have the energy. Hell, the fatigue is the the only thing that'll let me fall asleep tonight because I'm paranoid right now about the next car-jacker honing his skills on my poor little car. I want to sleep in my car with a baseball bat and just hope someone tries it again.
Update: Apparently I was not the only one beset upon by the hooliganism. A neighbor told me someone else's Integra (love them Hondas!) was broken into and another was a would-be. He apparently interrupted their attempts and was last seen wandering the parking lot with a baseball bat. I'm tempted to join him. I'm not one to advocate violence on a minor, but I would like to introduce the ones to cost me my next hour-long massage to the fine solid construction of a Louisville Slugger.
No, wait. That's not good enough. Let me try again.
In a previous life, I was a professional puppy-kicker.
That's about the only way to explain off the massive amount of karma I burned off today. I'd say I had paid up for next year's membership in the It Socks to Be Us Club, but I've already run that tally and calculated I'm good through the sun going cold.
So my car was broken into this morning. Yup, life beech-slapped me around 8:30am when I walked out to my beloved RSX to notice... No, wait, there was no "notice". Notice suggests the presence of an odd and previously unheard noise registering in your audial pathways. No, there was only "walk to the passenger side to dump my work sack and behold the thousands and thousands bits of tempered glass on my roof, on the asphalt, on the passenger seat, just about everywhere you could imagine save for the window frame of my passenger door. All of them twinkling in the morning sun, mocking me.
You can choose your expletive of choice because I pretty much muttered them all. Flowers wilted, young tender ears burned, the earth shuddered. I had to call TheCompany and tell them I may or may not be in, call the police to get a report, call glass companies and get estimates, realize my deductible is more and even if it weren't, I dare not make a claim for fear of my insurance dropping for... surprise, surprise... actually using it, then try to find a place that could actually do the job today. (They say 24/7 service - that's just for some bubble-gum-popping nail-filing type to take your call. No one said they'd actually do anything...) I finally found place, naturally quoting me more, but I had to wait until 3pm. So, not seeing a point in sitting at home fuming, not to mention racking up even more hours of work lost, I headed into the office.
(I'm not even going to touch my day at work. I mean, the lone bright spot is that my immediate boss is indeed a Cool Guy who was "do what you gotta do", but there was one person there who was working on my very last nerve and I swear it was only my not wanting to spend the afternoon in HR (or be sent home on a permanent basis) that stopped me from telling said person what was really on my mind. )
And naturally it rained. One bubble-gum-girl tried to convince me it was ok to wait until tomorrow to have my window fixed because, "There's no chance for rain today". I wanted to snap back "What state do you live in? Because it's not the state I live in." The radio-weather man said "20% in some locations". Well, if you're me, and you have busted car window with a couple of trash bag duct taped over it, the rain forecast is Metaphysical Certitude. And I don't mean some wussy little shower. No, I'm getting Dennis' Warm-Up Act. I literally had to scramble out to the parking lot and find some canopy near another building and ride out the 30 minute monsoon. During this time, I called Dudette for an impromptu It Socks to Be Us meeting, full of gallows humor because I was brushing up against that "I don't know whether to laugh or cry" feeling.
Finally 3pm rolled around, where I was privileged to lose yet even more time and pay 2 1/2 Benjamins for a replacement window. The repair man was nice enough to show me the small "scar" on the window frame where the "inexperienced thief" tried to pry the window open. Oh, goody, not only am I a victim of a crook, I'm a victim of a newbie crook. I feel so much better.
Ok, so life could be worse. My car could have been stolen. I could've been in London. But, as the saying goes, all things are relative. And relatively speaking, My. Day. Blew.
Geezamoli.
PS Apologies if what should be primo ranting falls a little short. Today has so stressed me out that I don't really have the energy. Hell, the fatigue is the the only thing that'll let me fall asleep tonight because I'm paranoid right now about the next car-jacker honing his skills on my poor little car. I want to sleep in my car with a baseball bat and just hope someone tries it again.
Update: Apparently I was not the only one beset upon by the hooliganism. A neighbor told me someone else's Integra (love them Hondas!) was broken into and another was a would-be. He apparently interrupted their attempts and was last seen wandering the parking lot with a baseball bat. I'm tempted to join him. I'm not one to advocate violence on a minor, but I would like to introduce the ones to cost me my next hour-long massage to the fine solid construction of a Louisville Slugger.
posted by The Doctor at Thursday, July 07, 2005
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