Today really bit the big one. I knew it was going to be bad when I looked out the window and saw that billowing ugly mess of clouds on the horizon. I should’ve stayed in bed. Had to get a lot of personal things done, so I called the boss and told him I’m taking a vacation day. Well I think I got two things done out of six, before I headed off to class at 3. I hadn’t expected to meet up with the pile of crap that goes by the name of “traffic jam.” It should be called a “f*ck up,” because someone probably did when there’s a jam. That’s what I call it. There’s a strange phenomenon here in DFW. A lot of people drive big trucks and SUVs (myself included). This would have you believe that these people are really good at off-roading, scaling hills and backwoods and whatever with their off-road vehicles. But for reasons still not known to myself, people around DFW lose their common sense on paved roads. Throw rain into the equation and it’s almost amusing if I didn’t have to drive in it. The point in all this? Someone f*cked up because there happened to be rain on the road.
Any, I left home at 3:10. I was expecting to get to class by about 3:50 generally. I hit the jam at 3:20. I didn’t get free of the jam until 5:10. I sat TWO hours on the freeway, and I missed an important lecture. On top of that I missed handing my homework in on time, and I didn’t get to ask a question that was important because I couldn’t figure out one of the homework problems. I didn’t once swear during the whole jam incident. Uh, well . . . maybe once. But only because I pulled out the digital camera and recorded a short video of the car standing still. I believe I said something like, “This is some f*cked up bullshit.” But I say to myself, “It happens. Deal with it.”
So I decide to get some dinner while I’m over by the university, since the whole trip was a waste to begin with. By the time I’m done with dinner, the day is over. I hadn’t gotten to finish the rest of my errands. But WAIT! There’s more! I come home and get my mail. Two bills, and one notice from a place I submitted an application for service two weeks ago. The notice says that I didn’t complete my application properly. Something about a missing form. I made sure all the forms were completed and included when I sent in the application. This was IT!. You know what I mean. The IT that causes the postal worker to go OFF! I’d just spent 2 hours getting nothing accomplished and now I get this sickening letter indicating that I’m getting nothing accomplished by mail also. I dialed up their phone number just shaking with fury. I was going to let someone have it. I call up and I get “Bob.” I’m not going to repeat the conversation, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I will say that I did not cuss “Bob” out during our conversation. Now that I’m writing about it, I sound petty. But you just had to be in my shoes to fully understand. Anyway, the reason for the application was completely semantic and it didn’t make me feel any better when the “Bob” explained it to me. I should’ve just f*ckin’ stayed in bed.