When it Rains...

Sometimes my life is full of misfortune. And by sometime I mean this week. I know. It's only Tuesday. Let's go back a few days...Friday.


Setting: my lovely purple couch in my abnormally warm living room.


I open my big brown eyes slowly as I awaken from a nap. Birds chirp, the air is warm and crisp, and I have a kitty cuddled beside my legs. 


Holy balls it is 2:12pm! I have a hair appointment all the way in Mansfield at 3:00pm! 

You read that right. 50 minute drive. Holy balls.

So here I am running around like a mad person. Purse, check. Kiwi taken out, check. Keys, check. I hop in the car and rush to get on 635. Oh 635. Lord have mercy. I'm doing 85mph on the interstate trying to make my appointment time. At 2:45pm I call the salon, "ummm I'm going to be 15 minutes late." I get to Mansfield and then...WTF. Where am I supposed to go? My GPS is lost. Seriously technology? Fail me now? Yes. 


So I drive around looking for this fantastic Salon I was recommended to go to and nothing. Not a thing. I park. 30 minutes late. Eff. Way to be a stereotypical black woman. Always on CP time. I'm about out of gas so I look for my wallet. Damn it! That wasn't on my check list! I drove this far, that fast, without a driver's license?! Thank you sweet baby Jesus for watching my back and allowing me to avoid cop's radars. More importantly I am damn near out of gas and I have no money. 


No money for gas. No money for hair. Oh, and lost. 


So I cancel my appointment and head back home with Molly and JC on standby in case I run out of gas somewhere. I had a pretty good weekend with awesome people and a Fantastic Monday (oxymoron?). Then today happened. 


It started off with one of our professors being a dick. Yelling at us if someone moved their lips and being pissed because we decide when we come to class. Look dude, I pay for this shit. I'll decide if I want to come to class or not or if I want to drop a letter grade because of my absences. It's a thing called choices...ok, sorry. Rant.


Then Dr. Hall. Ok, maybe I shouldn't use his name. I have issues with him. Deep rooted issues. Like he reminds me of my father issues. Actually, he reminds me of a woman. Doesn't really know what he wants, expects you to read his mind, and despite your best efforts, is never satisfied. If I was dating this bitch, I would have broken up with her a long time ago. Unfortunately, I am stuck in this relationship for another month. I feel like he is the dead beat father of my child. The baby daddy I can't stand to my beautiful baby Chiropractic. It's like I will never rid of him. But in August, hopefully, my baby chiropractic becomes an adult and is on her own and I won't have to deal with this douche again. 


Another rant. I apologize. Anyways, he goes on and on about how I [we] don't care about my [our] education, I don't want to give any effort, something about sex, and how the curriculum sucks. Blah. That was my morning. I went and ran errands during lunch (and argued with my mom) and headed back to school to give Molly some money. She didn't show. Yeaaaaaaa. So I leave during the second hour of that class to take Kiwi to get a haircut. On my way back to go to clinic to get adjusted, I notice (thankfully) my temperature gage is abnormally high. I keep driving and it keeps raising. Jeez, here we go.


See, I have had problems like this with my old car. The Jetta. That is another story. I have literally had coolant leaks with a car, every year for the past four years of my life; I wasn't catching a break this summer. I finally get to my apartment complex and park my car. Eff this. I am going inside my apartment and sitting in the air conditioner. I can't deal with this. Plus, everyone is in class, Molly is asleep, and Tara is in clinic. 


Then Canada texts me! Oh my! She doesn't have class today! I asked her to come pick me up and take me to get coolant (my tank was completely out) which was perfect because she needed a new light. We get our materials and head back to the apartment and get on it like the cute little girly mechanics we are. Both hoods are up, Mel in her jeans and cute top is looking into her car trying to figure out what fascia is. The chick in the dress, me, is perfectly pouring coolant into the tank without a funnel. It was a great sight. I wish I would have thought to take a picture. 


Canada leaves and I drive my car into the complex. The arrow to my temperature gage is still raising! This never happened with my Jetta! So I get out the car and turn it on and bend over ass all in the air to see if my car starts to leak. Yep. And quickly. Houston, we have a problem. 


Things I needed to get done:

• pick kiwi up from her hair appointment
• go to a report of findings at a doctors office
• get adjusted
• go to class in the morning
• re-try hair appointment on Wed. afternoon

Tara took me to get my baby and I missed that report of findings. I'll get adjusted on Thursday and class will come after and if I get my car to the shop. The hair appointment? Cancelled because it is obviously not meant to be.

Best part of all of this? As soon as all this crap started to happen I typed a name in my phone to call: G-E- O- R- G- E- I go to hit call and I realized it spelled out George. I am so used to calling him when things go wrong and hoping he can fix it. I called my mom instead. Wrong idea. She had no sympathy at all whatsoever to the fact that I dialed George's number. In fact, I think she was jealous that I dialed his number first. I ranted to her about my whole day and all she had to say was, "A lot of your friends are married, you can't do that?" Ugh, no mom. I don't want to marry the next dick I meet. 

There you have it. My entire day in one post. It is more elaborate in person, but hey, it is 10:22pm and I have a wellness report due. You know what they say: when it rains...

It pours.