My current miserable state was brought on by a few individuals who provided no warnings that they were plague ridden disease factories. These individuals know who they are, and they will receive their comeuppance in due time. Count on it.
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| "I'm sure you are aware of how we serve our cuisine..." |
In the meantime, since the sore throat, headache, sneezing, coughing fits, and random body aches have pretty much decided for me that I will be spending the majority of my time in bed anyway, I thought I might as well prop the old laptop on my, well, lap, and entertain you all in the only way I know how.
Endless whining and self-deprecation about events in my life.
So let's set the WABAC machine to two weeks ago... *cue ripple effects*
Thursday, March 19th 2015
The day started out on a positive note. I had a surprisingly restful night of sleep-- surprising, because I never actually rest well on work nights-- and a delicious breakfast. The sun was shining, and off in the distance, birds chirped gloriously, celebrating the arrival of spring.
The day took a turn for the stupid when I managed to stub first my pinky toe on my left foot, and then my big toe on my right foot. In the span of five minutes. On the same damn corner of my desk. So that happened. Hopping around like a mad bunny, cursing profusely, I gathered my things and headed out the door to work.
Upon exiting my apartment, I saw that the sunny skies I had awoken to had been replaced by thick, dark clouds. Clouds which were spewing heavy rain. I grimly zipped my jacket up and rode my bike to the bus stop. In the five minutes it takes to get from my apartment to the bus stop (and sweet, sweet shelter) my pants, jacket, and shirt got soaked through by the freaking rain.
The best part is, once the bus arrived and I boarded, the weather stopped trying to reenact the story of Noah's Arc, the clouds parted, and beautiful sunshine bathed the rain-slicked streets. Meanwhile, I sat, drenched from head to painfully throbbing toes.
Friday, March 20th 2015
Quiet the opposite of the previous day, I woke on the wrong side of the bed. Right from the time my alarm went off and my bloodshot eyes creaked open like wood-warped doors, an angry cloud hung over my head. Maybe it was due to spending the majority of the previous day working in wet clothes. Regardless, I was in an especially foul mood the whole day.
Nothing truly earth-shattering happened that day; it was just a long, tedious, stressful evening at work. The entire time I couldn't help but have a feeling of...foreboding.
Saturday, March 21st 2015
My feelings proved to be accurate, much to my dismay. I had just exited the bus and retrieved my bike, again on my way to work. The weather was, thankfully, mild. My job is located right next to the Alderwood Mall. The bus stops at the opposite side of the mall from my job. On bike, this ends up being a quick five minute ride.
I ended up being 15 minutes late to work that day. The reason for my tardiness? I crashed into a fucking tree.
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| "Watch where the fuck you're going." |
Was a drunk? Was I high? Perhaps I simply wasn't paying attention? Or maybe a gust of wind blew a stray dust particle in my eye and caused me to misjudge the distance between me and the tree.
Wrong on all accounts.
The reason the tree and I got so well acquainted was due to the gear on my rear wheel deciding to stop working as I was peddling. One moment I was in complete control, and the next, I was peddling away without any sort of traction. I lost my balance and crashed into the tree.
Fortunately, I was wearing a helmet like a responsible rider, so my head wasn't reduced to a crushed eggshell state. My bike wasn't so lucky, though; the handle bar was bent out of shape, the brakes were wrenched, and the front wheel was bent slightly out of alignment.
Sunday, March 22nd 2015
With no bus service on Sunday and my bike doing its best to get me killed, I was forced to rely on the kindness of a coworker in order to get to work. I was finishing up a quick email when he texted me, informing me that he was outside.
That's when things got weird.
I pulled on my jacket and shut down my computer before snatching up my phone and heading out the door. Only to hear him pulling away out of the parking lot. What the hell?
I pulled out my phone to text him, asking why he had left, when I saw something downright spooky.
Him: I'm here.
Me: I'm driving.
Him: So you don't need a ride?
Me: Nope, I'm good.
I never texted those two lines. I didn't even bother replying to his text telling me he was here. So there's only one possible explanation.
My phone is fucking haunted.
Afterwards, there was some frantic scrambling about, as he turned around-- after already getting on the highway when my text telling him, no, I actually do need a ride-- and we made our way to work. Luckily, we got there just on time. But regardless, now I can't trust my phone.
Monday, March 23rd 2015
I had signed up to work a half shift from 5 pm to 9 pm, seeing as I am perpetually broke and in dire need of additional funds. So when a friend invited me to hang out in Bellevue with another friend, I was a little hesitant. However, said friend assured me that he'd be able to give me a ride back to Lynnwood with plenty of time for work, I agreed; it had been a while since I'd hung out with either friend-- or had any fun at all-- so I said 'fuck it' and agreed.
A few hours later, when it was time for me to head out, he dropped a delightful bomb on my head.
"Yo," I said to him. "I have to be at work in an hour. Are we ready to go?"
He paused, and then said, "Actually, the girlfriend and I are going to stick around here for a while." he motioned to his girlfriend, who offered a little wave in my direction. "You can find another ride, right?"
So that happened.
Rather than reiterating that he had agreed to take me back to Lynnwood, and that no, I didn't have any other ride, I said, "Yeah, sure. No problem." Needless to say, I promptly deleted his number from my phone.
Doing some quick thinking, I zeroed in on the nearest bus stop and found a bus that would take me back to Lynnwood. The only issue was that I would arrive about 15 minutes late for my shift, but it was my only option at that point. I called work and informed them of my impending tardiness, and hopped on the bus.
I ended up being a little over an hour late for work.
Traffic was truly nightmarish, in true Seattle style. Even being in the carpool lane, we inched along at a pace that snails would find adorable. By the time we arrived at the mall, I was a little irritated. My irritation blossomed into full blown rage when the bus driver promptly ignored my stop request and zoomed right by my intended stop.
"Excuse me, that was my stop!" I said to the driver, doing my best to contain my ire and speak in a civil manner. He ignored me. I stomped up to stand next to him and asked, this time not so politely, to please let me out.
"No," he said shortly, keeping his eye on the road. "We aren't allowed to let out passengers unless it's at designated stops." Never mind the fact that he had intentionally skipped my stop, most likely because he was running so far behind due to traffic.
So I stood there, fuming, as he drove all the fuck down to the Lynnwood Transit Center, which is at least 30 minutes away by foot from work. And the next bus going in the direction I needed wouldn't arrive for another hour.
So I hoofed it.
I arrived at work very late and tired, with sore feet and calves. The first thing I did once I got off was file an incident report about my wonderful and purely professional driver.
Tuesday, March 24th 2015
I spent the entirety of my day holed up in my room, hiding under blankets. Nothing happened that day. These aren't the droids you're looking for. Move along.
Wednesday, March 25th 2015
I took my bike to the bike repair shop; I could feel a slight trembling coming from my back pocket. No doubt it was my poor wallet trembling at the coming financial depletion.
Getting the gears and chains replaced, the tire unbent, and the brakes set came to a grand total of $80. My wallet wept in grief. I did the best I could to comfort it, but it was only insulted by my empty platitudes.
I feel that there should be some kind of moral or lesson learned from this, but for the life of me, I cannot think of one. Perhaps sometimes, things just don't go your way. You take your lumps, roll with the punches, and move on.
Or, more likely, I've somehow offended some random deity from a pantheon I've never heard of.
