Somebody up there friggin’ HATES me! There’s no other explanation. Christmas only knows what the hell I did to piss Cupid off so badly- or maybe it’s Saint Valentine who’s the moer in with me- I dunno. Let’s go through a brief overview of my morning shall we? First- Damien woke up in a foul mood, as usual. So I just didn’t talk to him until he decided to greet me properly. It took him a while to register that I was a little miffed at him, but he did eventually. Then it took me an hour and fifteen minutes to travel 30 kilometres (this was simply dropping Damien at school and getting to work). The robots at one of the main intersections I have to go through were out again this morning (as they were yesterday) but this morning there were two traffic cops on points men duty- yet this took longer than when we were treating the same set of robots as a stop street yesterday morning. Then, at the same intersection as the points men were controlling- someone handed me a heart shaped lollipop through the window- a promo for a nearby car dealership. I think the poor guy thought I was going to hit him and he ran away very quickly! I stopped at the office to download my emails quickly, and when I wanted to leave some twenty minutes later, I couldn’t find my car keys! Have you guessed? I LOCKED THEM IN THE CAR! I did not throw a tantrum in the parking lot, as tempted as I was to hurl my laptop at the nearest wall and run home screaming. I went back upstairs to my office a called a locksmith. Thirty minutes and R225 later I had my keys back and I was finally on my way to my client. The highlight of my day so far? Seeing a white Lamborghini at an intersection near Damien’s school. So do NOT wish me a Happy Bloody Valentines Bloody Day. It’s bad enough that everyone seems to be wearing red today, do you think that’s a conscious decision on valentines day?! Even Damien- and the six other kids I saw being dropped off when he got t of the car- all in red t-shirts and jeans! Aaaaaargh!
There Is Never An Excuse
One in three is not a statistic - one in three is a crying shame.