Smad

So today was not a great day in Lucy Land. In fact, today was one of the top ten days of suck.

I have a new boss, whom I loathe. I think she is the Anti-Christ. She's a micro-managing, humorless pain in the ass. But okay, I can live with her. I can smile at her and tell her what she wants to hear and keep going and not have to deal with her.

My morning started with me running late for work. I get to work, get a nice parking space, lock my car and head off, thinking jealously of Omar sleeping late while I'm up at the mall before it even opens. Then the customers come in. My first customer is crazy and I spend forty minutes dealing with her craziness and her random stories. She told me all about how she had a seizure last year and was dead for three minutes because she flatlined and her husband was so scared, etc. Then she kept trying to fix me up with her son, even though she'd already complimented the engagement ring on my hand twice. My second customer heard me talking on a headset to someone, turned around so she could see who I was talking to, tripped over something and when I asked her if she was all right said to me, "No. I was listening to you, you asshole, and now I have a bruise." She told the cashier that she wanted to rip my face off.

Then the New Boss came in and she was obnoxious and micro managing and just being irritating. Finally! Five o'clock comes around, but I stay past my shift because there's a line and I need to get that line down. Five-twenty and I leave The Store to go home, thinking all about a hot shower and a cold glass of wine. I'm ready for it.

Except when I get out to the parking lot, there's one little thing wrong. My car is not in its good parking space. My car is stolen.

I was panicky when I called the police and Omar. I think my mother-in-law thought I was having an anxiety attack when I called her house to get him because he doesn't answer his cell phone. So, Omar's on his way, the cops are on their way, and I'm ready to break down because my day has truly sucked ass.

By the time the police get there, I'm calmer. I feel a little better and I'm starting to realize that it's not the end of the world. What bothers me most at this point is that I had some of my favorite CDs in the car. That really pisses me off, even now. So I calm down, go inside to wait for Omar after I get my police report, call the insurance company and try to relax.

Omar comes to get me and we go home and then I get sad. Very sad. So I start to cry. I worked two jobs to be able to afford the payments on that car. I spent the first two and half years after college paying it off. That car was my baby. Plus I just put $700 worth of work into her two weeks ago. It was mine. I worked hard for it and I paid for it with my own money. It survived car accidents, snow storms, paint incidents and a whole lot of other things. It was mine and I worked to make that car mine.

Then I got mad. Someone, some douchebag son of a bitch, stole my car. They didn't work for it, they didn't have to work sixty hours a week to afford groceries, car payments, and rent. I did. I paid $291.04 every month for two and a half years for that car. That car belonged to me and some rat bastard stole it.

I'm so sad. But I'm so mad. I'm smad.

I Hope Not Sporadically

It's been so long since I last wrote that I'm not even sure if I can cover everything.

Baby Sis is only slightly improved. Her mood certainly has not. The other day she went deaf in one ear for about sixteen hours. At least she laughed about it. I'm pretty sure I was having fits about it.

Omar's father is having a health scare that's pretty serious. Just once in my whole freaking life I would like everyone I care about to be healthy at one time. I don't see that that's too much to ask.

I have a job interview tomorrow that I'm terrified about. I'm going to be taking classes in the fall or winter and I'm really excited about that.

And the Sox are four games up on the suck-ass Yankees.

So far August hasn't sucked too much.