lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Instant Karma, Just Add Water, Part the First I know "DS" thinks today is some sort of "karmic retribution" for "my" "divulging" some sort of "secret" to "someone he really respects." But in actuality today was my instant karma for making under-my-breath remarks about him that he doesn't even know about, so ha. But I shall start at the beginning. Last night, I strolled in at 4:30 a.m. I was exhausted but didn't get to bed until 5, where I lay in insomniac wonder at my inability to fall asleep. Finally, sometime around 5:45, I succumbed to the Sleep Fairy. At 6:30, my mom came busting into my room. To know my mother is to know that she cannot stand anyone staying out late, even if they have nothing to do the next day but lie around in bed eating nachos and masturbating (what the? Where did that come from?). Methods she has used in the past include vacuuming at 8 a.m., banging the vacuum against the bedroom door; and making a huge breakfast, thereby clanging as many pots and pans together as humanly possible. Today was no day for subtlety, though, as you will soon find out. "Blahblahblah! Blahdrivewaycarcan'tgetintoblah!" she screeches. I start awake, having just fallen asleep 45 minutes before, and stare at her. Somehow (though through no aid of my mother's unintelligible squawking) I glean that I had parked in front of the house (which I already knew), the woman across the street is getting her driveway re-paved (already knew), selfsame woman decided that the sun, Earth, and moon might align, resulting in a syzygy that would cause one of the paving machines to dislodge a boulder from her driveway and heave it forty feet in the air, causing it, of course, to crash through the roof of my car. Oh, and for some reason, my mom cannot operate the key that would grant her entry into my car. So I get up; put on, for some reason, a pair of Mudd stack-heeled black leather clogs (which went oh-so-well with my pajamas); and go outside, where, miraculously, my car has decided to open itself up to me. In an event that was so shocking, even to me, who was part of it, I managed to pull the car into the driveway without any screaming, or any rocks landing anywhere. Seriously, where is The Weekly World News when you need them? I go back in the house, where I give my mother what I am sure is not the most pleasant of glances, to which she replies, "I should have just let them hit your car." Like, thanks, bitch. I finally get back to bed, where I belong, and where, three hours later, I am roused by the "Ding dong! Bangbangbangbangbang!" that hails the arrival of a drug raid, the basis of which has been constructed over several months and consists of 84 pieces of irrefutable evidence, or the water meter reader. I get up and let the man/woman in, then realize I slept through my alarm, so I hop in the shower. By the time I am ready, DS is at my house, so we run to drop his car off at the mechanic's, where he is to get a safety inspection. I cannot stress the following six words enough. Once we get on the highway, DS casually mentions that he should probably pop by an ATM and get some cash out so he can pay the bill we are on the way to pay. Naturally, I become enraged, and get off the highway. At the first gas station, there is no ATM. That's right, you heard it here folks, there is, in this country, a gas station that does not have an ATM. And lucky lucky me, I found it. So we get back on the highway, where I discover that my automatic transmission is somehow in the wrong gear, and I can go no faster than 50 mph until we get to the gas station with an ATM. Which finally happens, and we get back on the highway. Again. I drop DS off at the front of City Hall, and hang out in my illegal parking spot, until he comes back, waving his hard-won personal property tax receipt. (Oh, and did I mention that all of this has to be done because a certain person whose initials are D and S failed to renew his license plates for over a year? Just thought I'd fill ya in.) As we drive off, I notice that he only has 2003's receipt. "Uh," I say, "didn't you get 2002's, too?" "What? You didn't tell me I had to get 2002!" In his defense, I only know this because I used to work for a license office, but Christ. I've held his hand through this whole thing. Take some damn initiative. So back to City Hall we go. This time, my illegal spot is blocked by an armored car that is parked not in it, but next to it. I, mistakenly figuring that since the armored car is clearly on official city business, and the occupants of said car will surely come back out momentarily, therefore rendering me safe from police action, pull up behind it and put my flashers on. I don't know exactly how long later this happened, since I wasn't eagle-eyeing my rearview mirror, but at one point I happened to notice a cop car pulled up behind me, flashing that crazy big spotlight they have on their driver's side windows. I wave, turn off my flashers, and look to my left. The last thing I need is a cop who's already angry watching me get into an accident because I'm trying to hightail it out of there. As it turns out, the second last thing I needed in this situation was for that cop to watch as a teeny little blue car comes flying out of nowhere and barely escapes hitting me. Of course, the flashing lights come on. I pull over. TO BE CONTINUED... 10:37 PM - 10 March 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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