Let me give you all a window into the last 36 hours of my life.
My father called up wanting to visit me on Saturday because he's trying to quit smoking pot and get a job, so he's bored and irritable, and apparently his subconscious has turned him into an alcoholic to make up the difference. Which is fine, I know all his buttons by now. He's also suddenly picked up this weird fascination with getting me to join the Air Force, after he raised me my whole life ranting and raving about how much he hated serving the Navy.
Anyway, in the space of about six hours with no food, between the two of us we consumed a pint and a half of whiskey, a six pack of Guinness Extra Stouts, and half a dirtweed joint (woo, I'm edgy on the Internet). Yes, he's been trying to quit, and that was supposedly his first one in six weeks (and since I only smoke with him, at least a couple months for me), and it says good things that it's obviously a psychological and not chemical dependence. All he has to do is hold the thing and it works fine. Osmosis at work. But that being said, we were both drunk as Hell, and for the first time in my life, we each actually laid down on the porch to enjoy the breeze in lieu of staggering inside. For a few minutes anyway. Then we crashed on couches (every home should have at least two). He woke up again at 1AM (or 2AM, Daylight Savings and all) and drove home, I puttered around and tried to go back to sleep. Until 6AM, due to a pounding headache.
Then I woke up at 9AM, because my mother is on vacation and left her dog at a kennel, and tasked me with going to pick it up for her and watch it for a day. I drive over there and am told I wasn't due until after noon. So I make two trips to the kennel. Dog shits on the floor twice, and you have no idea what dogshit smells like with a hangover, but otherwise the day goes smoothly.
Work tonight, I get caught up in fuckin' drama with this coworker who wants to get fired and is trying to rope me into her schemes, and other people being lazy and goddammit will you all just stop being fucking children and try to slack off like normal people. Also my back hurts.
Driving home from work, night like any other night, and for the first time in seven years of driving, I get a flat tire on the highway. Even in the middle of the night, I have to fight my way across five lanes through dumbass people trying to cause traffic to bail, and get the distinct impression that I may have irrevocably fucked up that wheel. Probably not, but the tire has to be a ($150) loss because rubber doesn't fold like that, even though it looks fine now. Now, I have AAA Roadside, good for one free tow a year, but I think, "I'm a hardened young man with automotive knowhow, time to prove it and change a wheel like you're supposed to." That all goes amazingly smooth. Except the spare is flat too.
FUCK
Roadside assistance it is. I have to call the number three times because the automation is a load of shit, before I finally get a live operator from the bottom of a mineshaft. Cue a solid ten minutes of teaching this chick how to use Google Maps to figure out where the Hell I am. Phonecall concluded at 3AM - ETA to service truck 3:40AM. Are you shitting me? I walk to the corner store a few blocks down for a Mountain Dew and a guy in a cowboy hat follows me exactly twenty paces behind the whole way to the car. I think he was just drunk and going the same direction, but thank God for tire irons.
The one bright spot is the towtrucker showing up a half-hour early, and turned out to be a great guy - an older black gentleman wearing bowling shoes, who loved my car (damn straight). Fully competent at his job, just slightly forgetful. Like completely securing the chains before hitting Irving Boulevard's world famous potholes. I swear my car is alive, because I saw it do a goddamn handstand back there without losing its grip. The guy also could not grasp the concept that I happened to pull over on the very same road that I live on, five miles down, and also could not grasp me repeatedly pointing at my house as we sailed past.
Oh well. All that's done, and the car is home in one piece... Except only then do I remember that I have to be able to use the driveway later today. So I now have to choose between staying awake the rest of the morning and using my mother's car that I'm watching to take my tires down to the shop, or risk destroying my spare by backing up and driving into the yard to save the chore for later in the day.
Jesus H Fucking Christ, I just want to goof off and chill and shut this damn dog up and have a car I don't have to worry about.
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Topic: Things that made you RRRRRRAAAAGGGGEEEE today: Trust-o-nomics Edition (Read 3564249 times)