Sundays at the video store I work at are generally fun. Fun people are schedualed, we watch movies we all agree on, fun, fun, fun. And since my coworker, Andrea, and I had plans to go drinking to celebrate the end of the semester last night, I got especially dolled up.
So I am having a good hair night, and am feeling pretty OK. It’s been raining for two days here, but I didn’t mind. I left my apartment, and on the third step that leads from my second story deck to the asphalt below, I slipped, and fell the rest of the way on my tuchas, landing in a puddle. I was more scared then anything else, and when I went back upstairs to change into dry clothing, my hands were shaking so hard I could barely button my shirt.
So I get to work, and one of my coworkers, Pete, is exceedingly cranky. It was a busy night, and due to my mathmatical error, it took us an hour to close the store. I felt like an idiot. I was tired, and felt increadibly spacey all night. I’m thinking adreneline aftershock or something. My coworker was pissed, even though she was being quite nice about it.
We go out for drinks, and I’m having a heart to heart with Andrea. We left at closing. In my pocket were two ones and one twenty dollar bill. I threw two bills on the bar. Unfortunately, when I got home, I realised that one of them was the twenty.
No one died, I didn’t crash my car into anything, nothing REALLY bad happened, but I can honestly say that it was one of the most consistantly rotten days in recent memory. Anyone else care to share such a day?
