Yesterday was an epic day of suckiness. On the proverbial 10 scale, yesterday was an 11.
Three deaths in five days was the base coat of Teh Suck. First was my great uncle, who I was very fond of; the mother of one of my buddies at the fire department; and my former boss from NASA. On top of that add job pressures, the start of my class for my Intermediate EMT certification, worries about venomous snakes in my yard, the standard everyday actions of The Vast Conspiracy To Piss Me Off, and mix well.
I deliberately went to work late yesterday so I could go to Celeste’s wake. If I die and have one quarter of the people show up to send me off that were there last night, I will have lived a good and fulfilling life. There were 300 people in the crowd if there was one, and I had to stand up during the memorial because there were no seats available, and this wasn’t even the main event.
When it was over, I started home to The Vunderlair. Neighbor Fred asked to borrow $40 to get the new plates for Scott’s Blazer, and I had to find an ATM. Scott had his old plates confiscated by the deputies at a traffic stop when they found out his insurance had lapsed. He finally went to court, paid the fine, got his insurance reinstated, but was short of the bucks needed for the new plates. Hell yeah I’ll loan him that much, because it means I’ll get my truck back, finally. I got the money, and picked up a couple of items in general while I had the advantage.
It was 8:30, I was hungry, bummed out, and an hour and a half from my bed. The last stop was at a McDonalds, and even that didn’t go well because I had to wait 15 minutes for a f*king Quarter Pounder. I was ready to start machine gunning random people on sight when my cell phone rang. It was VWife.
“I wanted to tell you Eddie called.”
Aw shit, this can be one of three things:
- He wants me to do something for the Rescue Squad;
- The officers were going to rake me over the coals for not getting a police report for hitting the deer; or
- He needs a crew member because they’re short handed.
“What did he have to say?”
“You remember the call you had for the lady who fell off the ladder?”
“Yeah.”
“He said that he heard from the doctors in Greenville (big trauma hospital where our patient eventually wound up). She had 6 broken vertebrae, and more ribs than that broken at her spinal column. You guys were to be commended, because you did everything right, and she’ll walk again.”
Teh Suck drained away at that moment. I did not cuss the horrid Peninsula traffic any more, and my long awaited Quarter Pounder tasted like prime rib on a bun. That phone call made all the difference to me.