Being an emotional basket case (I don’t know where that saying comes from, but it should be casket case)/insane mess must present itself as a good time to me or something. Maybe I call it to me. Either way, the few quiet tears from last night through this morning gave way to near hysterics as I drove home today. Fun times, and at this point, great oldies.
You’d think since I truly knew it was coming, seeing the update on the computer wouldn’t have affected me so greatly. You’d think. If you didn’t know me.
I made it through work without tears. I will wait for your applause to die down. However, Mr. Witt was not a happy, funny teacher today.
Yesterday, the check engine light came on in my new car. Yay!!! Long story short, I got it back into the dealership today. The 90 day/ 3,000 mile warrantee didn’t work (I was 200 miles over—of course I was). Turns out it was just a faulty gas cap. That was great news, as it wasn’t the engine exploding or plotting my assassination—that’d be too easy. They were going to charge me a $100 diagnostic fee, but they lowered it to $50—somehow bringing the whole bill to a little over $100!!! I, as is my new pattern, argued with them for about ten minutes. They couldn’t understand why I was making such a big deal over $50. I told them that I didn’t think they understood how much $50 is in my world right now. While I was waiting, there was a service guy who kept calling a client on the phone. Every few minutes, I heard, “Hello, Brandon, this is Chad, can you please call me back?” Not kidding. I thought I had lost it the first time, however, after five times, I knew I wasn’t hearing things. I’m not exaggerating—he was very persistent. (It doesn’t count that I’m using his name right now—this Chad was some guy with a truck at MedVed.) After my little break down in the car after this, I decided I was going to go nuts on the cardio, get the endorphins up that natural healthy way. A few minutes away from the gym, I realized I left my iPod at home, and I refuse to do cardio without Gossip Girl. Still, I could lift weights for a bit. I got to the gym, entered the locker room. Took off my clothes and got my gym clothes out of the backpack. Two pair of shorts. No shirt. Never been good at math. I couldn’t workout with the work shirt I had on, it was way too heavy. So, I hot tubbed it. Then came home watched two hours of TV and pigged out on ice cream. Yay! Fatness. Maybe if I get so fat that I can’t leave the house, that will fix everything.
I’ve decided my new motto is ‘There is No Arizona.’ It’s a song by Jamie Neal. Only remove Arizona and replace it with the name of the guy with the truck at the MedVed. Maybe if I take that song to heart, sanity or its ilk will ensue.
Oh, yay. It’s almost bedtime. Joy.