Originally Posted: 2003-12-18 12:33 (no longer live)
print

Rant: God pooped on my day

For those of you who think you’re having a bad day, I have a Christmas present for you. Today is (and it’s only noon, mind you) the worst day of my life…

I wake up this morning at 5:30 this morning, throw on some sweats, put the dog on the leash, and head out for my morning jog. My morning jog is easily one of the highlights of my day. Not today. The first thing I see when I walk outside is the bits of shattered glass on the curb where my vehicle used to be parked. Only the shards of glass remain – the car is gone. FUCK. Fuckity fuck, fuck, FUCK. Yes, I have insurance. Yes, it’s not the end of the world, but for Christ’s sake – FUCK. Stolen car.

I go inside, call the cops, wait for them to arrive. Two cops arrive a few minutes later, take down my story, and tell me there’s no chance they’ll find my car… at least not in one piece. Odds are, they tell me, that if it’s found it will be stripped to the frame. Super. I can’t deal with the insurance at the moment, so I decided to go jog and clear my head. It’s 6:15 in the morning, so I’m well behind on my daily schedule. But like I said, the jog is important to me. I’m not going to let some asshole thief ruin my day. I head out for a jog.

Not fifteen minutes into my jog, as I cut through down Corcoran Street like I always do, some enormous thug jumps out from behind a car, shoving me down to the ground. My dog goes crazy, barking like mad and trying to bite this asshole. The thug is so fucking big that it doesn’t matter. He basically holds my dog (chocolate lab) at bay with one arm while he tells me to give him my wallet before he really hurts me. The fucking moron doesn’t seem to realize that I’m JOGGING, and is fucking surprised when I tell him that I don’t have shit on me. He’s fucking pissed, realizes that mugging a jogger was pointless, kicks my dog as hard as he can, and runs off. My dog and I limp home. I contemplate calling the police again, but I decide it’s pointless. Nothing stolen, no broken bones, nothing but some bruises and a bad fucking mood. I shower and get ready for work, my day already easily the worst ever, by a large margin.

I call the insurance company while I’m fixing breakfast, and my agent walks me through the process of what I’ll have to do (huge pain in the ass). Because I’m not paying attention to the eggs and hashbrowns I’m cooking, a grease fire breaks out in the kitchen. I accidentally drop the cordless phone (breaking it), and am stupid enough to throw water on the grease fire (burn myself). I take care of the fire, but the food is ruined. Burnt, beat up, hungry, car-less, smelly fucking kitchen, with a broken phone, I decide to just take a cab to work and leave the mess behind.

In the haste to leave, I forget to bring my wallet, but I don’t discover this until I’ve arrived at work. I have to tell the cabby to go back to the house to pick up the wallet, then back to work again. Being the dickhead DC cabby that he is, my fare (should have been $6) somehow snakes its way up to $20. I only have $10 in cash, so I have to go to the ATM. The nearest one is broken. It takes me and the cabby five minutes to find another one, which he says means $23 now. I’m outraged, but at this point too broken to fight it. I pay, and even give the guy a $2 tip. I’m retarded, yes.

When I finally get into my office, it’s 9:30, and I’ve missed an important phone call. Things can’t get any worse, can they? Only slightly. My secretary has decided to quit to run away and get married in Paris. She’s been nice enough to leave a note on my desk telling me this.

It’s noon now, and things have been fine at work since 10:00 or so, but shit, can you BELIEVE the start to my day? I don’t even know if I believe it myself. I keep hoping this is a dream and I’m going to wake up at 5:30 for a morning jog. Anyway, for all of you pissed about your day so far – it could be a lot worse. Trust me.



post id: 21078955