Here was my Wednesday.
I woke dead-dog tired, having not gotten to bed until almost 1:00 am and then insomniac-ing myself until 2 or so. So woke up feeling pretty beat. I then realized it was pouring down rain. For reasons I won’t explain, I didn’t eat anything for breakfast (or lunch later).
And when I say pouring, I fricking mean it. It was coming down in sheets and you could hardly see three car-lengths on the interstate. I got out to school, intending to change into my shoes (from sandals) in the parking garage… but it turned out the only free spots were on the top, open roof.
K, whatever. I went to class, and at last managed to avoid missing anything on the quiz. However, by this time my wrist was hurting a lot, so I called to work and said I’d be a little late. I went all the way over to the Student Health Center, hoping they could give me a wrist bandage. Of course, they couldn’t, because “You’d have to see a doctor.” Of course, it takes hours, at best, to get an appointment, and I had to work, and all the doctor could do would be to give me a goddamn [strike]Batman[/strike] bandage. So I went to work.
Except I no longer had an umbrella, because it was turned inside out four times getting around in the wind (and was then so broken I chucked it) , so I got soaked. My left shoe decided it liked water, and completely soaked through. OK, so I got to work.
Well, I found out that day that I more or less have to go on the expensive trip to australia in roder to graduate this December. Oh well. Fine, went to evening meeting to work on some class stuff. Went fine, got finished.
Then some other people I was meeting were late, so I was standing there waiting and waiting and starving the whole time (it was 24 hours since I last ate). Finally I got to go get something to eat. I head to Trino’s to get a calzone. I wait and get my calzone. I go back and eat it.
FUCK!
FUCK YOU COCK-SUCKING BITCHES!!!1111oneone
I don’t know what kind fo fucking bacon you think your serving, but bacon is not squishy like uncooked ham. It can be juicy, but it is not squishy and “meaty” like that. It is not pink. And finally, it does not taste exactly like cold-cut ham.
FUCK!
Well, I called them up to complain. They basically denied anything was wrong and then grudgingly offered to maybe do something about it (in a tone which pretty clearly indicated they considered me a pest and just wanted me to shut up), which at best would have involved getting a new calzone, which would have required me to walk another block there and another block back in the cold, assuming he didn’t pee in it or something like that.