Woe is Me

If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all.

Gloom, despair and agony on me.

(If you know where the above comes from, you are old. Just sayin’)

You know I don’t like to complain (I can feel my sister rolling her eyes from 5 states away) but I have had a really crappy day. No, not crappy. Worse than that. A shit day. A real shitful day. No, a very, very shittery kind of day. Yes, that sounds better. Shitty, but with a little bit of glitter.

It started out okay, I mean I had to go back to the doctor sooner or later, right? It had been a year and while I loved telehealth calls my doctor was really getting on to me to come into the office and get that (sigh) annual visit done. So I scheduled it weeks ahead so it would be hard to cancel. What was shittery about that? Can we all say “Covid weight gain?” No, I will not disclose PHI (Protected Health Information) but I certainly did not lose weight over the past year.

After my doctor’s appointment, I started to drive to work. Now, both my work and doctor are in the same city, which is a 45 minute drive from my house (this will mean something in a minute). I make the left turn on the main street and all of a sudden my car sputters. I am like, WTF? And then it immediately dawned on me that I was out of gas. Which I have never, ever, ever done in my entire life. How hard it is to monitor your gas gauge and put gas in BEFORE it runs out? So here I am with a sputtering car, knowing I am about to full out stall and anxiously looking for a gas station. There! A convenience store across the street! Now, all I had to do was not completely run out of gas before getting there. I sit in the left turn lane and multi-task by lazer beaming the light to turn green, stare at the traitorous gas indicator on the dashboard – all the while praying to our great and powerful Lord to PLEASE, PLEASE let me make it. And believe it or not, I pull right up next to the pump and my. car. dies. I just sit there feeling blessed and sooooo happy! I pull out my bank card and walk to the pump. Took me a minute to realize that there was no gas hose. And then I noticed the message on the little TV screen that said “Pump out of service.” Yep, pulled right up to the only pump that was broken. I just stared at it. I walked into the store and told the clerks what had happened. I told them I tried to turn on my car to move it but no luck. It was completely empty of gas. But then a lovely lady in the store said she had a gas container in her car. I told her that would work great! I could pump some gas in it, pour gas into the tank and move my car to a pump that worked. But, but, but there was a catch. See the said gas container was somewhat broken. Meaning the black spout that goes from container to the car didn’t work. But no worry, she said. We’ll just get a paper cup, put a hole in the bottom and use it to as a spout to pour gas into the tank. So there I am. With a broken gas container, a cup with a hole in the bottom just shaking my head knowing that God was laughing his ass off at me. Needless to say, this endeavor did not work very well. Pouring gas into my tank using a tiny paper cup with a hole in the bottom was probably the least effective way EVER to get gas into a car. Which means, well, I got gas on my shoes. And hands. And down the side of the car. And probably more than a few shittery sprinkles on my pants and top. But. It. Worked. I probably dumped about $6.73 worth of gas on the ground, but it was enough and my car started! So I moved my car and filled the sucker up to the top.

My new dilemma is that I now reek of gas fumes. But I live too far away to go home and change. So I did the best I could in the gas restroom and continued on my way to work. At least I stopped by McDonald’s and got my favorite drink: A large sweet tea with extra ice.

I went into work and put everything down on my desk and turned around to my cube-mates to explain why we were all going to be high by the end of the work day and my F**CKING drink spills all over my desk. Seriously. Spilled on my chair. Spilled on my notebook. Spilled on my keyboard. All I can do is grab Kleenex to save my PC while everyone around me lends a hand.

And that is the end of my shittery day. I decided not to dwell on it too much because I was pretty much over it. I did put my shoes into a grocery bag to try and keep the stench down. My car will probably smell like gas for a week. Next time I go to Walmart I am going to buy a small gas container and put it in the trunk. I think I shall name it Shittery.

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