As my oh-so-eloquent pop mentor would say, today I feel like a plastic bag.
I had this huge list of things to get done today, and none of it worked out. At all.
Having just moved to KC this week, I’m still in the midst of setting up shop. Which, here, means scrubbing floors, staring at unpacked boxes, making maintenance requests, having sketch maintenance men stare at my broken shower door with an idiotic ‘solution’, fighting with sketchy maintenance men about said shower, and having my cable/internet company screw me over 10 ways to Sunday (which may or may not be the correct expression I’m thinking of). Alsooooooo, just found out I have no garbage disposal (and no dishwasher), my trip to Walmart was unsuccessful (which never happens and is a bad omen in itself), my front tire has almost no air in it, I’m having a fat day, AND Oprah was a re-run. What. The. Hell. This sux.
Anywho, you know how after 500 things don’t go your way, there’s that tiny, frivolous, should-be-insignificant straw that breaks your crabby, fed-up back? Well, today, that was my mailbox. After receiving a bajillion letters addressed to the former tenants (and only one for me) having to stare at Mike and Justin’s name really pissed me off. So, naturally, I made a trip to my favorite craft store to buy the best kind of medicine: new scrap booking paper J
This is how I made my day just a little brighter.
No comments:
Post a Comment