First off, let me start this (rare) Friday post with a big Wittie Cooper welcome to Cousin Kristen, who has just become lucky follower #7! Psyched whenever I know somebody not only gives a crap about this little ranting station, but actually gives a crap routinely, so thank you Kristen, feel free to comment on anything, and please pass the word along.
Ok, enough of the love-in, onto why I am freaking ready to take a hammer to a wall. By the way, if you are wondering, the acronym stands for "Thank-God-It's-Almost-The-End-Of-Friday", which is not only upsetting cuz today sucked a bit, but because I usually love Fridays and it's always a bad sign to start the weekend on a rough foot.
As many of you know we've had a little bad automotive luck. Well, not me, so much, but Joe. A few weeks ago he called me while I was up in Jersey describing how his truck was making odd sounds. He texted me a few minutes later with the bad news.
"'Truck is no more. Waiting for AAA'". My heart sank for him but we decided to just carpool, with me taking him to work, until a more permanent solution could be found. Honestly, I don't mind. It's nice to have company in the car and spend some extra quality time together. Plus, because we have to make up for it by getting up earlier, I actually end up getting to work on time. Usually, that is.
On this particular morning, as we travelled down 83, one of the biggest main drags into the city from the county, we noticed the bumper to bumper traffic began practically from our exit. As we muddled through we eventually came across the cause of the back-up--a head-on collision with the median. While the accident wasn't especially dramatic, it didn't stop the hundreds of commuters on our side to take their time and get a glance. We finally hit a semi-clear patch and as we approached Joe's exit I noticed the awful back-up on the other side. "I'm going to have to sit in that," I said disappointed.
I dropped Joe off with him still trying to explain to me some alternative routes. Fortunately, one of them was fairly simple and straightforward, although definitely a long way. After stopping to refuel I finally made it to work, albeit an hour late.
As I walked into the office I was relieved to find out that my boss had NOT yet strolled in. So far, a break-even.
Then I wanted to check my bank statement to ensure that the rest of my paycheck had been deposited. I had had a small panic attack yesterday when I looked and saw the direct deposit was over a $100 less than what I had been expecting. I was nearly ready to lose it when my fremps reminded me that they always stagger the holiday pay (this pay period including Labor Day) until the next business day. I opened my account online and once again, my heart went into my stomach. The money had not appeared.
I called the temp agency, and after a few rounds of phone tag my "boss" finally returned my call, and explained that, because I was short a few hours this cycle I was not eligible for the holiday pay. I grumbled to myself, and when I said I understood, my mood took an even more definite dip. I hung up, and resolved I would just go and get some lunch from the new coffee kiosk downstairs in the lobby and try to make up for this day.
As I walked up, the girl behind the counter asked what I was looking for.
"Yes, I'm curious to try that turkey with brie?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, we sold out."
"Oh," I said. Figures. "Um, what's on that London Broil sandwich?
"London broil, onions, and....horseradish sauce," she said.
Figures again. "How about one of those brisket knishes?" I said, though I could already sense the answer.
"Sorry, you girls got the last two yesterday," the other girl said, who had waited on us the day before.
I was almost unable to bear my frustration. I smiled politely and said thank you, though I'm not sure for what, and made my way back upstairs and ready to kick or punch or cry, much like a petulant child.
I finally just accepted the fact that today was a bad day, and from then until now I've been almost purposely searching for things to piss me off more. The traffic being horrible on the way back to the city. Joe taking longer than he said to come out (though really, it was only by a couple of minutes), and finally coming home to see that the dog had taken a nice long pee by the door and (kicker..) we have no more Swiffer mopping pads!!! AHHH!
Joe just asked me if I feel better. I think I do. But I think a nice glass of wine (and maybe a night out at the Melting Pot...?) will have enough strength to turn this night around. We shall see...anyway. Have a wonderful weekend kiddies. I should have plenty to discuss with a party to go to on Saturday and the Maryland Wine Festival on Sunday.
Somebody get me a spare liver PRONTO!
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