Ah, shit. Someone send out the sniffin’ dogs. (That is what M.I.A. stands for, isn’t it?)
I’m not far from you. Shush, you!
That suxxx.
Sometimes, petty revenge is the only kind you get.
After spending some time angry at my toddler of a mother (see mini rants in the Pit, I don’t feel like rehashing again, esp. now that I sorta-kinda got over it) I got myself out to the errands: Amazon return on those damn lights, plus I wanted a few things from Meijer.
Hol(e)y socks, Batman! Even Michiganders are stocking up on T.P. and milk (saw a guy clutching nothing but two dozen egg cartons & hightailing it for the insane-o-pants line for the registers) and the dispo by my home - where I may or may not have wanted to swing by on my way back - was friggin’ packed.
I decided the prudent course of action was to safely stow my yummies at home in my fridge, and have a smoke chill with y’all for a bit while I contemplate life uh, my mother I mean, what’s for dinner, and then go back to the local weed place and get something to keep me warm over the next days, when they’re hopefully quieter.
… and also, make sure I know where my shovel and sno-melty salty-whatever stuff is.
Sweet Manager already made a blanket announcement that anyone who’s stranded/stuck, just let her know and her 4x4 will come and scoop up your ass, and bring you to work.
She ain’t playin’ NO games! 