The woman I'm thinking of, she love me all up, but I'm so down today

To say I had a shitty day yesterday would be inaccurate, but there was a period of time from when I left work for the day until I got home that could certainly be labeled as such. Up until about fifteen minutes to quitting time, things were fine, but when Marcy came over to my desk with some last minute paperwork, they henceforth spiraled in a southerly direction.

I wasn't miffed at the work she gave me; in fact, there wasn't much of it and, if I timed it just right, I'd finish it before quitting time with a couple of minutes to spare. Well, I wasn't on my game at that point, because I made a series of mistakes with the paperwork that, though easily remedied, kept me at work fifteen minutes past the hour. That may not sound like much, and usually I'd agree, but in this instance, I was aching to go home not long after I arrived at work. Fifteen minutes felt like forty five.

Still, I wasn't irritated at staying a bit late. I left work, got in my car and backed out of my spot perpendicular to the curb and heard a scraping sound --- my front end obviously hadn't cleared the curb. I saw a strip of rubber on the ground where my bumper had just been and, after a quick inspection of said bumper, I tossed the article in my back seat and drove away.

On the road, I discovered I needed gas. I went to the only gas station I knew of in that area of town and, upon opening my wallet, discovered it was empty. Oh well, I thought, I'll just use the ATM. The gods weren't favoring me at that moment, because, as it happened, the ATM was down for the count. Guess I'll use the credit card.

In keeping with the way things were going, I had left my card at home. Damn! I ran across the street in the rain to the White Hen, used their ATM, and ran back to the gas station. In line, I managed to get behind a guy who looked to be buying a pack of cigarettes using about six methods of payment. I'm not sure, but I think I saw some dubloons in the mix. Anyway, it was a lengthy process. When he was through, it was my turn to pay, an act I was eager to complete. From behind me, I heard a guy say "Put thirty on pump eight" to the cashier, as he tossed his credit card on the counter.

I watched this fucking hick make his way to the pump and thought what a dumb, arrogant prick he was. Oh well, he'll still have to wait his turn, I thought. When I returned my attention to the cashier, a middle-aged, dim-witted woman I've had a couple of frustrating encounters with before, I saw that she was processing the guy's card. I stood there dumbfounded. The guy had clearly been behind me in line, but here she was attending to him first. As she failed again and again to process his card, I stood there bewildered.

After a few minutes had passed, she figured it out and said "Oh, I'm sorry. I can never figure out how to use this damn thing". The only response I could muster was an icy stare. Though there were numerous ways I could have lashed out at her, and believe me, I spent much of the ride home devilshly coming up with a few, all I could do then was maintain the stare. I was starting to feel spent and just wanted to go home.

By the time I hit the highway, it was almost six o'clock. I should have been home already. Once in town and sitting in traffic, I called my sister to ask her a couple of questions. Not five minutes into the conversation, BAM!, I was hit from behind. I pulled over and inspected the damage. Nothing much, just a few scrapes on the bumper. It wasn't so long ago that I had been inspecting another bumper. What a day!

The woman who had hit me with her hulking SUV was nice enough. We exchanged information and went our separate ways. I called my sister back and we laughed at my crappy ride home. She suggested I go straight home and get in bed, lest more bad luck befall me. I didn't heed her advice, though ---I needed to stop at the grocery store, where, thankfully, nothing bad occurred.

My plan, once at home, was to relax. I had intended to call Mara at some point, but I figured I'd call her today, when, hopefully, my spirits would be higher. She ended up calling me, though, and I met up with her at Mr. Crepes in Davis Sq. I effing love their crepes, but, alas, I had already eaten, so I watched Mara eat, instead.

Afterwards, we went back to her place and hung out for a while. Around ten thirty, I made it back home and watched some of the Office (UK), marveling once again at the genius of the show.
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Tonight I plan on watching Little Children and maybe working on a song or two. And, if you'll not be needing me for anything else this evening, I'd like to excuse myself and see to other, more pressing, matters.