unplanted

tuesday/wednesday

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Weekends come pretty fast these days. They go far too quickly and most of the time I have is wasted, but the time in between weekends, well…

In weeks like this that time is just plain screwed up.

Let’s put it this way: You know thigns are going badly when:

you leave work on a tuesday only to have the door handle of your car break off and fall underneath the car next to you so that you have to get down on your hands and knees on the one day you wear slacks to work and while you’re cursing and trying to avoid putting your hands in puddles of oil you retreive your door handle and realize that it’s really broken as in there’s absolutely no way this thing can be fixed, not even with all the duct tape and super glue in the world and you begin to notice the way your car door is constructed and it occurs to you that you just might have to replace the whole friggin’ door and you think about all the junk yards around and imagine your car with a red door instead of a blue one and you estimate how much it will cost to have your car painted and you realize that you still owe at least that much on your car as it is and you just wish someone would steal the damned thing and then you begin to wonder if you even have car insurance any more because you can’t remember making an insurance payment last month and you’re pretty sure you haven’t received a bill and you think screw it, i’ll just fake it and you drive home and you fume the whole way and when you’re oh, about three blocks away from home a truck in front of you drops this thing–you don’t know what it is–and it goes underneath your car and makes a terrible noise and the noise won’t go away so you pull over and it looks like everything is okay so you start to get back in your car and go home and that’s when you realize that you have a bungee cord sticking out of your tire and so your first instinct is to pull it out but when you try you hear the air hissing out and so you pull in to the parking lot of the bowling alley and find a level enough spot and you change your tire but really you’d rather just whack the shit out of something with the tire iron or maybe just go into the bowling alley and sit in the lounge and have a couple drinks but you know that won’t fix anything so you change the damn tire and figure the tire is pretty much worthless now because you had to drive on that damn bungee cord and your main concern at this point is not your shitty life or your crappy car or how much money you’ll have to shell out but the fact that you have to be at work to give a presentation at eight thirty the next morning and you’ve no idea how you’re going to get to work so when you call your old roommate to have him look up some phone numbers (because you don’t have a phone book) he laughs at you and you apologize before you hang up on him and then you call another friend and she bitches about you calling her just to have her look up something on the internet and you think to yourself ‘why don’t i just end it all right now’ but you don’t because you just need to figure out how to get to work in the morning and now it’s nine at night and you’re hungry so you eat a crappy sandwich and you get a bus schedule and realize you’re going to have to get up at 5:30 just to be at work on time and you set your alarm and go to bed early only you can’t sleep because you’re wired and sometime around midnight you take something to help you sleep and then in the morning you relaize that it’s 7:30 and that you’ve pulled your alarm clock into bed with you and you missed the bus and aren’t going to be able to give your presentation and you feel like a worthless schlep and you call a bunch of people and you call and call only they’re not answering their phones because it’s early so finally you get through and everything’s going to be okay at work so you go buy a new tire and that’s one hundred and twenty dollars and that means you can’t pay one of your bills and you try to figure out which one it will be and it’s wednesday and you have a hangnail and you’re tired and pissy and you carry your door handle around with you all day like a security blanket and you know that pretty soon you’re going to just loose it and eventually you’ll curl up in a ball and hide beneath your desk and cry or maybe suck your thumb and your co-workers are saying things about your car and telling you that you’re like one of the Dukes because you’re going to have to climb in through your car window and they call you Daisy but really you feel more like Boss Hogg or maybe that Bassett Hound because nobody understands you and it’s Wednesday afternoon and you’re trying to figure out how to get your door handle fixed because you think if you can fix that then maybe everything else will eventually fix itself and even though you know that’s not true you go through your day and when you get home all you want is a big glass of orange juice and you get the jug and you shake it and when you do the lid pops off and you spill juice all over yourself and you think:

crap. i am not happy at all.

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Author: Kim Sharp

more later

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