Thursday, September 2, 2010

The Day of the Egg Ordeal

I decided last night that today was gonna be great.

I set my alarm for seven a.m. Seven. In the morning. I decided I was going to get up early so I could enjoy the awesomeness that would be today, and then I betrayed my inner sleepyness by throwing my alarm half way across the room, thereby assuring that I would have to physically get out of bed at seven a.m.

I did. I got to have breakfast. And tea that didn't come in a paper cup with a sleeve. However, the egg machine (we have a machine for eggs, is that normal?) kept smelling funny so I had to open all the windows 'cause I was afraid the fire alarm would go off, which made the whole kitchen chilly and me and cold and seven a.m. do not play well together.

That was an awfully long sentence. I apologize. I'm not gonna fix it thought 'cause it was seven a.m. and my memory before caffeine is a little fuzzy.

After the egg ordeal (that is something I never want to say again) and the caffeine kick, I went out and spent $150. You might think, oo shopping! Or wonder what I could possibly have spent that two and a half days pay on (alright that's depressing), like shoes or OPI nail polish or a new camera or a belt that hasn't molded itself to my jeans, or something shiny like a tiara--

Oooh! I should totally go put on my tiara right now, it's a guarenteed pick-me-upper.

--or maybe a kitten, maybe I woke up this morning and argued with eggs and chewed on a tea bag while the water boiled and thought, I could totally go for a kitten right now.

My cat just glared at me from the piano bench. Okay, no more kitten talk.

Back to the point! So of all these fabulous, shiny new things I could spend $150 on, what did I buy?

Single Variable Calculus: Early Transcendals, Sixth Edition.

That's right. A math textbook. And you know what else? It's used. All that money and it's not even new, there's highlighter in it and cigarette butts between the pages and the corners have split so much there's a family of bed bugs holed up in the back cover. It's possible that's not all true, but c'mon.

Remember, this day was gonna be awesome. It was foretold.

At work, all was well until the enormity of I'm head coordinator of a two day festival and tomorrow's my last regular day of work kicked in. So when I went to Subway, I got cookies. Failproof logic.

Two days ago, it poured rain. People got soaked; people forgot how to drive; people wondered if Richard Branson had bought the sun and taken it out of commission until his name was branded on it in neon lights. I loved it. I wore my new jacket (outlet stores should be honoured with sacrifices on the full moon) and used my brand new umbrella with the big pink and blue flowers on it and jumped across puddles and the smell of all the wet things overpowered the smell of the alcohol brewery down the street and it was heaven. I also learned that my lovely black boots aren't waterproof, but hey, now they're washed!

Today, I really missed the rain. It was hot. I was still wearing my new jacket but now it was sticky and cotton-y and full-sleeved.

I thought I was on time leaving work, but nope, I didn't even get to see my bus drive by. When the next bus came, I had time to kill before my next-next bus came, so I went and bought a nail buffer and baby pink nail polish. It's called Glow. OPI names are waaay better (Blue My Mind, Cha-Ching Cherry, Chocolate Shake-Speare) but at least it's not Pink.

At home, I did my nails (duh) and read a whole slew of Gilmore Girls transcripts. It's possible their ranty image-making exaggerations and similes have left an impression on me, but I don't think so.

New plan: tomorrow is going to be FABULOUS!

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