Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Bitte Gott, ließ mich sterben

My day yesterday was just sh-t.

On the way to work, I had a catastrophic wiper blade failure, and it was flopping all over the place. I wasn't somewhere I could pull over and fix it either. And thank goodness it was pouring rain at the time. So I got to work and put it back on, hoping it was just a fluke.

So after having numerous things of varying intensity go wrong at work all day, I did what most two year olds do to cope with frustration and sobbed in the bathroom for 15 minutes. The only thing I hate more than crying is crying in public, especially at work. I HATE IT. And that, in turn, made me even more upset.

On the way back from the dr.'s office to work, the wiper blade freaked out again. I realized that it's probably just broken and dealt with it till I got back to the office. IT Guy came out and put it on again, and I just needed it to hang on until I could get to AutoZone after work.

I left and got some winterized blades for my car. The guy behind the counter called me "sir," and I just felt that was par for the course of the day. I was able to get the broken one off and replaced, no problem. The other one wouldn't come off, though. So I had to go back in and ask one of the guys to help me replace the one. The guy raises an eyebrow and says with a smirk to me, "Usually when someone can't do something, they ask for help." I replied, "Well, I usually CAN replace a wiper blade, but as you can see, my left hand doesn't really work." /sigh

I went home, put on pajamas, crawled under my electric blanket, and refused to do anything for the rest of the day.

Today has only been mildly better. I'm looking forward to 5pm Wednesday. Ugh.


Angel said...

A lawyer? A LAWYER?

My word, woman. It's lucky you don't possess any evil powers because I'm pretty convinced you would have decimated an entire geographical area by now.

And I wouldn't blame you one bit.

You should have at least shoved the wiper blade up the nostril of the twit who called you sir. Then the other up the nostril of the smirker. Oh well. Hindsight and all that.