How Not to Spend a Thrusday Night

A few Thursdays ago was one of those days where I wished my life was like my DVR box. I could fast forward, pause, or erase all the really crappy moments. That is to say that Thursday sucked. When I woke up, I called my mom with a juicy piece of celebrity gossip (shut up), that she should have loved. But she seemed really uninterested in it, and I'm all like JUICY PIECE OF GOSSIP, didn't you hear? But then I found out why. She told me that both of my nieces had Swine Flu. The Oink Oink flu, that is.

The flu I never gave more than a passing thought to, because it is the FLU after all. And these things are never supposed to happen to your family. I knew my nieces could probably beat it, but they had exposed my 4 month old nephew and elderly grandmother to it. And they might not be able to beat it. Next I found out that one member of our family who shall not named, had stolen over $60,000 from another member of our family who shall not be named. This family member is very self-righteous, judgmental, and was always telling us what bad Christians we were, and that we should reexamine our values. He once told me that my wedding would only be my "first wedding." How shitty is that? Give me a break.

I live my life a little bit on the ditzy side everyday, but when I get really stressed, the oxygen stops circulating to my brain, and I get a case of the stupids. And last Thursday I was definitely afflicted. So I knew going into work and school that day, could get a little hairy. And this is where I mention that I have a long standing fear of gas stations, more precisely not being able to figure out how to pump the gas and looking stupid. And for once my fear was valid, because THAT IS WHAT HAPPENED THAT THRUSDAY. I had the poor gas attendant believing that not one, not two, but THREE of his gas pumps were broken. Finally, I begged him to come help me because it was going to make me late for work. I kid you not, he put his pump in my tank (that’s what she said), and it just magically started. It was like he had magic fingers, (that’s what she said AGAIN) and I felt so foolish. Now I can never go back to that gas station, because of the embarrassment factor, even if they do have the amazing slurpees.

So I finally got to work, and wrapped things up with my student. I headed out for my hour and ten minute drive to class. Can I tell you how miserable that commute is? I can drive in my car for hours and hours on country roads in Alabama, and not feel as annoyed as I do driving 23 miles across town in L.A. TRAFFIC. By the time I get to class, I start thinking I might spontaneously combust. I have discovered there is only one preventative measure that can be taken to prevent spontaneous combustion: 711 banana slurpees. Are you seeing a trend here? I really love slurpees. But on this particular day I stopped at the 711 and forsook my banana slurpee for a orange creme slurpee, and that is probably where the trouble started. Mental note: nothing beats the banana slurpee ever. I got in my car, and I made the drive to class surprisingly in one piece. But as I was organizing my bag for the long night ahead, I noticed my brand new wallet was missing. Don't Panic I said to myself, it is probably hidden by all your crap in the bag or in the car. But it was no where to be found. PANIC.

I looked up the 711's number, but it hadn't been turned in. PANIC, PANIC, PANIC. I don't think I heard a word of my 4 hour lecture, because all I could think of was the things in the wallet. I was so dead. I don't think I breathed the whole trip home, and I thought, "Maybe I don't have to tell Adam, maybe I can just replace everything in it without him ever knowing." But then I remembered Adam's debit card was in my wallet (where it spends most of its time anyway LOL) and then I knew I was in trouble. When I got home, I sat down on the bed, turned to Adam and said, "You are Going to Hate Me." Because in my mind, this was such a catastrophe, that this could possibly ruin my marriage. And no I am not just a dramatic person, I am just that much of a fatalist.

What else was there to do but jump in the car in our pajamas and drive 11 miles to the 711? With me crying the whole time, as if it was the end of the world (aren't you glad you aren't married to me?!?!) And I'm going on and on about how he has every right to hate me, and he is like, "I'll decide that after we get to the 711." And I'm like really? really? You are going to say that to the most emotional woman in the world RIGHT NOW. ( I want to defend myself by saying I am really emotional, but its mostly due to my hormones constantly being out of whack).

So we get to the 711, and I search all the places my wallet can be, and it is nowhere. I ask the clerk and no one has turned anything in, and I am devastated. But I give the clerk my number, before leaving. Adam and I decide to look through the car one more time, because what else could we do? I opened the passenger side door (where I could swear I looked bef0re), and see something shimmering between the seat and the door. It is my wallet! I mean seriously? seriously? This is the story of my life.

I told Adam that he should be proud that at least I didn't leave it in the store....



P.S.-They gave my nephew and grandmother preventative medication and everyone has recovered.