Oh My Gawd Sodagirl!
TGIF. Right?  Sure.

March 30, 2007

I think I might have been in a coma and although my calendar does say Friday, I think it’s really Monday. Are you with me on this? Can someone clear this up for me?

Well, I can’t really get into details per say but I will say this: Buying a house and doing an “assumable mortgage” is HELL. There have been few situations in my life where I have felt this much stress and I’m going on auto pilot. I swear I don’t know if I’m coming or going. It’s a strange feeling and I don’t think I like it. But such is life. Hopefully I’ll be back to normal soon. Like I was ever normal. Ha.

My day started off shitty, no other way to put it. First, I woke with a migraine. Well, that’s not entirely true. I mean, I did wake with a migraine but it’s the same fucking one I’ve had for a month. I’ve eaten so many pills that my stomach feels like it’s going to fall out. Stomachs can’t just fall out right? Right? Come on, I’m looking for answers here people and expect them. I’m demanding like that.

Okay, take 2 pills, and get on with my day. I’m walking my daughter to school this morning and we have to cross the street in front of her school. There are signs up that say YIELD TO PEDESTRIANS. To me, that means FUCKING STOP WHEN YOU SEE PEOPLE WALKING IN FRONT OF YOUR CAR. Dontcha think? As we are crossing (and there’s also a STOP sign that hello, means STOP), this lady pulls up to the stop sign. She did stop. I will give her that. So my daughter and I are directly in front of her car. We have the right of way, and I look up at her except she’s not looking ahead. She’s staring out her window, looking to her left. Then she steps on the gas. Ah ya, hi, I’m WALKING IN FRONT OF YOUR CAR. As I’m yanking on my daughter’s arm to get her out of the way (and mind you this is all happening in miliseconds/seconds) the woman finally turns her head to see, Oh shoot, there are people almost touching my bumper. Oh because I’ve hit the gas and not been looking out my windshield as I should be doing if I’m going to DRIVE. I shot daggers out of my eyes at her as she slammed on her brakes and I’m pretty sure I stabbed her in the head with them. She refused to make eye contact with me then. Oh I see how it is, you get to just about run me and my daughter over and then you don’t have to make direct eye contact. Did you feel stupid? I hope so. You need to have your licence taken away or a ninya kick you in the ass. The latter would be nice.

I walked home without further incident and decided I had to get to the bank and then to the post office to mail a package. The bank was quick and painless, although I had to listen to the angry man beside me rip a strip off of the teller, which, although it may be heartless for me to think it was fun, but it was. Let’s just say because of this whole house stuff, I’m not keen on banks. Anyway, I leave the bank and head to the post office across the street. I get in there and yay, no lineup! Just one dude in front of me. The lady behind the counter comes over to assist me and as I’m standing there, I hear this weird noise behind me and hear, “oh look out!”. Now, listen, I’m not too swift these days and being in a stupour for the past month, my senses are dulled. Or maybe it’s the vodka. I don’t know. Anyway, I slowly turn around and then get sprayed on the side of the head/face with 7-UP. Yes, 7-UP. There’s a guy behind me, who had been loading cases of pop into the cooler and one of the 2 litre bottles became angry I guess and threw itself on the floor and split open and as it’s lying on the floor, spinning around, it’s shooting pop up about 5 feet in the air, thus spraying the walls, the products hanging on the racks and me. The postal lady was smart as was the dude standing beside me. They jumped out of the way. I didn’t. I just stood there like a moron, watching the pop spitting out of the crazy bottle spinning like a top on the floor. I think the postal lady told me to get out of the way. Too late. The other chick offered to wipe my jacket off with a paper towel. No, that’s okay because I’m going to go buy a giant bag of brownies and eat them until I vomit. And then I’m going to flush my head in the toilet. Then maybe I’ll pass out. Then maybe I’ll go fight crime. We’ll see. I’ll have to go dig out my super hero costume. Oh shit, it’s at the cleaners.

I hope your Friday is better than mine. Wanna come eat brownies with me?

Posted by Sassy @ 12:51 pmEmbarrassing,I want to Punch You in the Neck,Just Stuff.4 comments  

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4 Responses to “TGIF. Right? Sure.”

  1. Sassy, my dear..I swear! Well I usually do swear but now I am swearing about this. You are the only person I know who could go to the mail box to mail a letter and get killed with 7UP. Geez girl! We don’t sell pop in the US Post offices around these here parts, now I know why!
    {{{hugs}}} I hope you have a better evening!

  2. ROFLMAO! WHEW! I’m not the only one who suffers odd misfortune in mundane daily routines :-D That is such a relief. And yes. I would love to come eat brownies with you.

  3. Yeah I totally want to eat brownies with you. With ice cream. And chocolate syrup.

    And no side of mini-van about to hit us.


  4. Come on over, I’ve got some pretty pink bowls and really big spoons ;)

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