[about the author]
i actually like speaking in front of large crowds. freakish,
i work crossword puzzles in ink.
i am the american nigella lawson. or maybe the american eddie
izzard. can't decide, really.
i would be a really good mom, but i'm cool with being a really
i am sometimes more perceptive than i would like to be.
i am fiercely loyal. sometimes, stupidly so.
i never play dumb. never.
i am way too hard on myself.
i am a change agent.
i sometimes cross that fine line between assertive and aggressive.
i am not afraid to tell people that i love them.
i am militantly pro-choice.
i am pro-adoption.
i know a little bit about alot of things.
i typically enjoy the company of men more than women.
i am capable of being really mean and nasty, but i fight it.
i am a lifelong cubs fan. do not laugh.
i have been known to hold a grudge.
i have hips.
i am not my sister.
i am lousy at forgiving myself.
i am an indoor kind of gal.
i am a bargain shopper. to the point of obsession.
i am 32 flavors. and then some.
the little things
yesterday was a crap day. for starters, i had serious blog-block. some days, you just can’t think of one damn thing to write about. you’d swear that not one single interesting or amusing thing has ever happened to you. ever. but, i like to try and write something every day (i find it therapeutic. plus, if i miss a day, next thing you know, i’ll miss a week. it's all downhill.), so some days i reach. yesterday, i reached. and it bothered me all day.
then, i discovered that i’ve lost my driver’s license. not misplaced it. really lost it. best guess: i shoved it into my coat pocket and it fell out when i pulled my gloves out. wouldn’t be so bad, if it was my maryland license. i could just get a replacement. but, it wasn't my maryland license. i haven't gotten that yet. it was my old license. and now, without an old license to surrender, i’ll have to take a fucking driving test to get my maryland license. actually, a driving test and a written test. and you just know i’m going to fail one of them. it's inevitable. all this, not to mention the supreme joy of spending a day at the dmv.
then, i get to the metro station and discover that all of my metrochek farecards have been demagnetized. i can think of no earthly explanation for this. maybe i was sleepwalking and went to the airport where they x-rayed all of my farecards. seems unlikely, though. at any rate, there i stand with $120 in farecards, and not one of them will work. i ask the station manager for assistance. his idea of assistance: “these don’t work. you’ll have to take them to metro center and get new ones.”
yeah, thanks for the news flash. so, then i explain that i need to actually get on the metro in order to get to metro center. to which he responds, “well, that’s not my problem.”
that, ladies and gentlemen, is fine customer service. in action.
despite my desire to stay there and make inquiries as to what, exactly, it means to be a station manager, i don't really have the time. plus, i'm philosophically opposed to violence. and i don't want to get arrested.
eventually, i get to metro center and wait in the mile-long line at the sales office. my turn at the window, and i explain to the woman at the counter that i need to exchange my metrocheks, as they are all demagnetized.
“well, i’m not doing all of those.”
i’m trying to maintain my composure. i think i have a logical question to ask and i want to be sure that i ask it in a courteous manner.
“i’m only supposed to do one a day.”
“but all six of them are bad.”
“well, i guess you’ll just have to come back then.”
“you mean i have to come back five more times? are you serious?”
“not my problem. and it’s not my fault, either. not my fault you don’t know enough to keep them cards away from magnets.”
it seems that the washington metropolitan area transit authority has some sort of new branding/community outreach campaign going on, the theme of which is: “not my problem.”
and that’s the point at which i think i’m going to stroke out right there in the middle of metro center.
i spend the rest of the day seething. i feel like i itch inside, but i can’t scratch it, and it’s making me so angry that i would really like to scream. scream in the edvard munch kind of way, where your head warps and the sky goes all red and wavy. an infinite scream.
it’s not that i’m easily set off. i just get supremely frustrated when a seemingly endless stream of inane, irrational things pile up on top of one another, resulting in some absurd and oppressive synergy.
i spent the evening solving this month’s where are you?, trying to relieve the stress in my shoulders, the result of my accumulation of little things. honestly, i wasn’t having much success.
and then my mom called.
my great-grandmother passed away yesterday.
and suddenly, the little things all fell away.
i will be out-of-pocket for a few days. i plan to return on monday. take care, and enjoy your weekend.
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