The last 12 hours has been a real pain. It started last night when the wife and I reasonably discussed getting a new bedroom set, read: yelled and screamed and pissed each other off. Her main contention was that my frugal nature and incessant need for endless discussions about money matters has put off to this point buying a need bed. Actually the words she used were “cheap bastard” “penny-pinching tightwad” and something about whining, but that’s getting off the subject. My point was that all of the above was true, but that the current bed was fine. Not true she says, she hasn’t slept well in over a month, she claims. This could be true being a man’s man; I could sleep in construction rubble with a tarp for a blanket and a pile of bricks for a pillow and wake up well rested.
So we went to bed angry. Assuming the appropriate anger position. You know, like the x position here. That was until Fate showed up at 4 this morning. He was accompanied by a sort of groan and a loud crack, immediately followed by gravity pulling us to the center of the bed where our heads met like coconuts. After much cursing, an investigation revealed the center support beam on the bock spring had broken.
To my wife’s credit she didn’t immediately launch into an “I told you so”. She simply looked at me. You know the look that makes you feel like you’re the biggest idiot on the planet, which seems odd as you feel only several inches tall. I met this withering gaze by looking away and muttering under my breath. I’m not stupid; I know when to retreat.
As I normally get up at 5:15 I made me some cereal and took my shower, then got ready to work. My wife in the meantime had retired to the couch. Again being magnanimous she allowed me to kiss her on my way out the door, with only a small case off frostbite. Fate however was not done with me.
Some of you might know that my doctor called me a fat bastard and told me to lose weight. I really should get a new doctor, but this particular suggestion had merit. As part of my exercise regiment I leave the car at home and walk a mile or so to the bus stop; where I catch a bus to San Leandro Bart, which is in turn another mile or so walk to my company where I open up at 7. Simple right.
At 107th and International the bus stopped. Completely. This was unusual as it wasn’t at a bus stop. The next bus is 25 minutes away, and it’s 10 minutes to 7. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that my morning walk just grew by a third. So here I am after 5 hours of sleep and a 4-5 mile walk, and I’ve got to go bed shopping when I get off work. Can anything else possibly go wrong today?