It seems like, when I have car trouble, everyone in the world has to have car trouble too. I am not, in any way, blaming myself for this. I am blaming the asshole universe.
It is seriously 900 degrees in Florida this week. And I can’t say enough how much I fucking LOVE spending an hour in traffic every day in this heat, to make it ten miles to my apartment from the hospital. I think every day, “Why couldn’t the air go out in December? Why?” and then I remember that I probably wouldn’t be using it for it to have a chance to decide to screw me. Ha! Fooled you, air conditioner! Wait. Maybe that’s wrong.
Call to LBG:
Me: Can you do me a ginormous favor?
LBG: Sure, what’s up?
Me: Can you pick me up tomorrow from my mom’s so that Willie can fix my car?
LBG: That’s a ginormous favor?
Me: Okay, I got a better one. Can you find some thugs to come while I am at work tomorrow and hit it from both sides at precisely the same time so that it looks like an accordion and I can get some insurance money?
LBG: (Pause)…um…I don’t really know any thugs.
Me: Doesn’t matter who it is.
I just need to be sure that I get my CDs out first. And I shouldn’t be inside either.
I have typed more today than I ever have in my entire life because one of the doctors that I work for likes to wait until right when I get done transcribing some eight paged document to bring me another one that is twice as long and includes made up words which I will then spend 30 minutes trying to find the spelling of. I think he is pissed because I have cut off his pen supply. I didn’t even have time at work to goof off. And I always make time for that! Always.
Last night, while chatting with The Idiot, I actually said, “A live squirrel does not usually resemble a pile of nerf.” Don’t ask. I couldn’t tell you anyway. I vaguely remember something about Lionel Richie’s pants and being afraid to look in my pocket.
1 comment:
leave feona alone, she is tired.....
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