Friday, May 13, 2005

Happy Friday the 13th!

Usually this is a lucky day for me. Today, the universe had other ideas.

This morning my favorite neighbor had her bank account attached by the IRS. The IRS sucks.

Then, while carpooling with a co-worker to a satellite clinic they go to, DH gets a ticket for driving 44 mph in a 30 mph zone. He wasn't going faster than anyone else, he just was the lucky one who had the radar gun pointed at him. Or not, who knows, he still got the ticket.

I go and take my medication administration exam for work, and pass! Woo Hoo! But then I stop in the ladies room, and my zipper doesn't want to go down. That's fine, these pants are way loose and I slide them down easily enough, but without thinking I press against the waistband with my calves and pop the zipper.

I still have to go meet with my manager to get my schedule for the next week.

I am forced to remove my pants and I spend 10 minutes standing in the toilet stall disassembling my pants to re thread the zipper.

Me in my underwear... hoping some nun doesn't come into the bathroom and wonder what I'm doing in there. For so long. Standing up that way... trying prevent myself from grumbling pseudo-obscenities (Pigeon-poodles!), let alone what I really want to say. The whole time I'm thinking about how funny this will be in my blog. Which is the only thing that keeps me from loosing it completely. See what good invisible friend group therapy this is!

While I make it through my day and get home, my favorite neighbor, my "Mama" calls me and asks me to put on my "nurses-hat" and come over and look at her elbow, she's been in a wreck on the freeway.

It is lucky after all... My favorite neighbor has other resources for now, the person that rear-ended her twice (TWICE! Wasn't paying attention to stopping at all! Hit her so hard they left the imprint of the license plate in the bumper) has insurance and DH can go to traffic school.

Now all I have to do is manage to get through the first few months on the job without committing complete social suicide... for a future blog: how the filter between the brain and the mouth can malfunction resulting in oral-pedal contact.

(post script: I just realized that the spell check feature does not work in mozilla; and here I thought I'd finally learned to spell! How embarrassing!)

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