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If I were to describe today in a few words, I would call it "really fucking stupid."
It's already been a weird enough week. I mean, at one point, we bought a couple bags of "Chocolate Coins of the World" from some stupid store closing sale nearby (Akron's economy is down the shitter, apparently). Anyway, this bag of coins, which advertised having chocolate pieces decorated as the currencies of 25 (or more) countries, ended up having only coins from the U.S., Canada and Israel.
Maybe they pulled a recall with the advent of the euro....?
Compounding everything is the fact that this entire week, I've been getting up at 6:00 am. Why? Well, remember, Virgil died and he's been sitting in front of our house useless. Amy has to be at work in Kent at 7:00 am, and since she (STILL) can't drive a stick, I have to drive her. It'd be silly for me to go back home from there when I'd normally go to work at 8:30 or 9:00. Of course, Virgil's death happened Sunday and I would have had him towed to a repair joint already, but somehow somewhere during the giant snow storm, my wallet somehow self-destructed, disappeared and went into exile between the car and the door of our home... probably in the snow. Without a AAA card (or ID, also in the wallet) so I was told a few days ago by some mean bitch on the phone, the member benefits weren't provided.
Since I'd finally gotten tired of going in so early by today, I finally this morning called AAA again and begged for a new card. Understanding the situation of the missing wallet, the lady at Hoosier Motor Club finally faxed me a temporary card which would be used to get the Volvo to Autobahn Service Center over on the other side of Akron.
Aha, I thought. Problem solved. Once I get home from work tonight, I can get that thing done. Chalk one up for Mr. Andy...
Nope.
The one-car situation of the week demands that, on the way to teach my Monday-Wednesday classes at Canton, I stop by Amy's hotel to pick her up and drop her off at the house. Which I did.
When I was pulling into the Stark Campus, coming around the corner, Pedro's brakes completely failed. So, having deposited my brain in my stomach, my stomach to my nads and my nads into my toes by going around a corner at about 50 mph in a 30 year-old definitely-non-sports car, I regained control and rolled him into a cozy place in "The Faculty Lot."
Yep, rank has the privilege of being about 100 feet closer to the door.
So, now I was in Canton with a car with no brakes. Amy was in Akron with a car with (basically) no engine.
Depression and cynicism reigns.
I told Amy in between my classes that all I wanted to do was go home, drink (and or smoke) myself into a stupor, and devolve to a semi-coma (not a semi-colon). At the time, I definitely wasn't kidding. I was certainly willing to give up my substance-free year (and longer for drugs) for leaving tonight in a haze.
Finally, Amy (the smart girl that she is) decided to call up our friend Amy (whose Kory is in New York right now being an artist-type). They figured out some plan where I'd have Pedro AAA-towed to Rich's Automotive to get his (recently repaired) brakes worked on (he said they'd be free if anything he's done in the past year is the culprit) where they'd meet me. Then, we'd head back to the house, call AAA again to have the Volvo towed to Autobahn.
The towguy came and took Pedro and I away, depositing us at Rich's. Of course, the drive was like 20 minutes of awkwardness that comes with driving with a complete stranger in an odd power dynamic relationship, or better described as complete silence.
Upon dropping off Pedro, I found that the various Amys had not left (they were expecting a call) and were still 20 minutes out. Upon some consideration, I realized that the movie of my somewhat odd evening didn't have a surreal transition that involved me walking like a drifter, packed down with bags of coursework and everything, down a very busy, very dark highway with a muddy and narrow median. I remedied this deficiency by marching my sorry ass away from Rich's (should I have just stood in the parking lot?) about 1/2 mile to the nearby Speedway, where I just stood in the parking lot there (seemed much more legit).
Even better, the walk gave me the ultimate representation for the evening, a perfect microcosm for my struggles: as I walked down the road through the 35-ish temperatures to the distant gas station, I talked myself into wanting, no, needing either a coke or a crappy gas-station-"cappuccino." Of course, when I arrived and reached into my pocket, I re-realized that my wallet was still MIA and Amy (you know, the one still 20 minutes away) had our only existent card.
Once the Amys came and found me (and laughed about the fact that I had a BBQ riblet shoved in my pocket from my non-eaten day's lunch) on the way back, I called AAA yet again to get the Volvo's vacation (or sanitarium visit?) booked. The people at AAA couldn't believe I was calling again, and kept asking if this was a follow-up call for the bug and (I always love this) if I was in a safe place. But, they dealt with it., and the Virg got sent away.
Now, 16 hours after starting this really fucking stupid day, I'm sitting at Amy's house (Amy-and-Kory-Amy, not my wife Amy -- that would put me at my own home) next to a retired racing greyhound and (until a few seconds ago when the Amys came in with their stirfry and turned on an Arrested Development DVD) watching a terrible episode of Kung Fu. We'll be sleeping here tonight so that Amy can hitch a ride to work with Amy-and-Kory-Amy, and so that I can walk about 3/4 of a mile to work. We're not exactly sure how we're going to get from Kent to the repair shops, each around 20 miles away.
The Amys were also nice enough to make me dinner, a portabella mushroom burger and a plate of seasoned fries. Nothing in the universe could possibly taste better to my empty and somewhat neglected stomach (fresh off it's holiday in my nads from the too-quick failed-brakes-turn). That's even without ketchup, which somehow (and inexplicably) Kory and Amy don't keep in mass quantities (or at all) in their house.
And to finish it off, I'm drinking water from a strange cup with an ass. If only I could explain it.
Posted by Your Friendly Neighborhood DJ on February 21, 2007 09:59 PM | Permalink
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Correction. I can drive a stick! I used to drive Pedro until he went and had his clutch replaced. Then he hated me!!
Posted on: February 22, 2007 07:06 AM
It has definitely been a crazy time! I'm going to call around to some church people to see if I can get a ride to pick up a car. Although, I'll have to wait to do that until after I know a car is ready to be picked up. Oh man, its going to be another long day, isn't it?
Posted on: February 22, 2007 07:14 AM
I was hoping this entry would be up for me to read in the morning!
The butt mug line actually made me laugh out loud - my coworkers probably think there's something wrong with me since I never ever laugh here, especially at 8 in the morning.
Posted on: February 22, 2007 08:06 AM
When it rains, it seems like it pours. Hope things are going better soon. Love you both. Janet
Posted on: March 18, 2007 11:52 PM