A Little Story

This is how my day went. Schadenfreude lovers, eat your heart out.


I woke up at exactly 07:01 and screamed "SHIT" very loudly, because I hate it when I miss my alarm. At 07:02 I shoved my contacts into my half-open eyes, and by 07:08 I was running out the door and to my car, fully ready to speed all the way to school in the hopes of getting to French on time.

Except my car was awash in a thick layer of frost, which I had to spend ten minutes scraping from the windshields and windows. Frustrated, I finally began to drive to school, and about a block away from my house, I realized that the driver's side of my windshield was completely frosty again. Only the driver's side.

So I pull over, get out of the car, fuming, and realize that my windshield wiper has broken. I fix the damn thing, with the skin on my fingers tearing off because the metal wipers are frozen and it's cold outside, and get back in my car and once again embark on my journey down the highway through farm country to get to school.

I've just exited the highway and have turned on to the penultimate road of journey, a narrow, 2-lane road right through the center of the even hickier-than-Hicktown township where my high school is located, am flying down the road at 70 mph, and suddenly, a hay-bailer pulls out in front of me.

For those of you blessed enough to have grown up in metropolitan areas, a hay-bailer is a huge tractor-looking thing that farmers drive up and down their fields after a harvest. The machine turns the remainder of their crop into bails of hay, which the farmers then sell to horse ranches and stuff. Hay-bailers are about 10 feet wide, and can reach speeds of 20 mph on a good day.

I ride down the rest of the road at 20. Miles. Per. Hour. My knuckles are white and my jaw is clenched so tight I feel like I'm coming down off an extasy roll. I tailgate the hell out of the hay-bailer, but it's too wide for me to safely get around it without put my car through a fence or into a ditch.

When I finally pull into the school parking lot, it is 07:40. I am half an hour late to school and the halls are empty as I hurry through them.

I am almost to French when the security guard (who masquerades as a 'hall-monitor' except hall monitors don't carry pepper spray and undercover cop badges) whose name is Jesse apprehends me. He yells at me to get to class, and before I can stop myself, I shout back at him "Suck my dick, Jessica!"

The look on his face is priceless, but then he drags me to the office and sits me down in front of the principal. Oh joy. I listen to principal of my school lecture me on respect for authority and the importance of being on time for like, an eternity (the fucker is an auditory narcissist, I swear, he just went on and on and on) and then they finally let me go to French without anything more than a warning not to do it again.

By the time I drop my bag beside my desk in French, there are 10 minutes of class left.

The next few hours are tedious blur, but according to my planner, I've been assigned a veritable mountain of homework for the weekend.

At lunch, I'm not hungry, but my friend buys me a coffee. It's black, just the way I love. It's a nice gesture, probably the highlight of the day.

I'm about to finish the cup, lazily browsing Facebook on my phone, and I notice on the news feed that Fsb and his ex (yep, the one who fucked Wsb) are all cute and cozy again. Well, that's nice.

As I'm driving home after school finally ends, a bird shits on the upper left corner of my windshield.

I get home, and am about to light up a cigarette, because heaven knows I deserve one, when I get a text from Fsb letting me know that he and his ex are officially back together. Why he'd tell me, I have no idea. I haven't hung out with the kid in about a month.

At this point, my stomach is in knots, and I don't think I can stomach my cigarette, so I return it, unlit, to the pack.

It is now that I receive a second text from Fsb, telling me that he hopes I'm ok.

At this point in the day, after every fucking domino that fell, I just collapse onto my bedroom floor, laughing my ass off. I laugh and laugh until my abs ache, because there is no way in Hell that I'm going to shed a single tear even on this mother-of-all-bad-days.

There is nothing to do but laugh. This day has sucked like I never even thought was possible.

I seriously think God is trying to tell me something, something like "FUCK YOU." or "I don't give a shit about you." or "I don't exist, love, stop asking me for shit."

Something like that.
Julia