Rejected titles for this entry include:
- Terrible Poker Face and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
- Not The First Time I’ve Cried at the Gyno
- Some Days You’re the Pigeon; Some Days You’re the Statue
Y’all. Follow me down the rabbit hole…
7:18am Realize that I’ve snoozed 6 times and have way overslept due to my disproportionately awful Oscars party hangover. (Two glasses should not make me feel like all light and sound is trying to punish me… even if my two glasses were extremely large. And full. And black with a small opening at the top. Fine. They were bottles. I drank two bottles. Whatever.)
7:42am No time to stop for coffee. God help me. God help us all.
7:49am Start the frantic search at 80mph for my cell phone. Zig zag within my lane, barely staying in the lines. Generally be a menace on the road.
7:51am Give up the search after I realize that if I was to get pulled over I might not pass a breathalyzer. Resign myself to the fact that I’ve left my phone at home.
9:22am Play on WordPress. Realize two people have stopped following me on Twitter. Overreact. Obviously the world hates me, hates my writing, and until I can get some GODDAMNED COFFEE IN MY SYSTEM, realize that this is my life now.
10:15am The effects of Phantom Limb Syndrome begin to set in as I keep reaching for my phone as I (Scouts Honor!) can feel it buzz and hear it ding. Slowly begin my decent into hell.
11:00am Lead a meeting that I’m not prepared for. Consider that I should start working at work again since these days all I do is write, read, and use social media to stalk Romeo. Totally normal. Decide that that would be asking too much because if they wanted me to be productive at work, they should open up a Starbucks in the school cafeteria.
1:54pm Leave work early to go home before my gyno appointment. Breathe a sigh of relief that this bad day is over. Jinx myself.
2:20pm Come home to discover Maggie shit on the floor. She’s been potty trained for 6 years. She’s just mad I stayed out all weekend.
2:24pm I clean up the mess to flush it. Toilet clogs. With dog shit. Not the worst part of my day, but certainly the crappiest. (Heh)
2:37pm Get my phone. Read an article that Leigh sent me about getting over a breakup. Listen to old school Taylor Swift that Riordan sent me. Cry my eyes out. Smoke a cigarette in the middle of the day. Freeze my ass off. Feel sorry for myself.
3:14pm Pull up to park for my gyno appointment. Realize that I have no cash and that both of my credit cards are so maxed out that even a $3 parking garage fee won’t go through. Try to ask the parking attendant if there was any free parking nearby. Get a reply in what I think was in Arabic. Curse myself for taking Spanish in college.
3:21pm Miraculously find parking on a side street about a quarter mile from my doctor. Decide that my day is turning around afterall.
3:30pm Walk up just in time for my gyno appointment. Realize that the office has moved. Do an awkward walking sprint by doctors who I would otherwise shoot the hungry eyes at but hold off for the time being because I’ve started to sweat through my scarf.
3:39pm Show up late for my appointment. Start to feel guilty, but then sit in the waiting room for 20 minutes and the appointment room for another 30 after that. Phone dies in the waiting room and leaves me alone with my thoughts. Near panic ensues. Thankfully Doc shows up right before I started crying.
4:30pm Conversation with my gyno:
Doc: Are you sexually active?
Me: Not anymore. I just got dumped. <starts crying>
Doc: Do you drink? <while handing me a tissue>
Me: You did hear that I just got dumped, right?
Doc: Do you smoke?
Me: Only when I feel like I’m so fragile that a small gust of wind might cause me to splinter into millions of pieces.
Doc: Do you do drugs?
Me: Is that an offer?
4:45pm Get blood drawn. ‘Nuff said.
4:50pm Start the trek back to my car. Walk the quarter mile back and realize my car has been towed. My phone is dead. I have no currency. The only option is to begin the 7 mile walk home in 39 degree cold and drizzle.
4:54pm Decide it’s good to be alone with my thoughts. I’ve stayed one step ahead of The Sad by staying way too busy. Maybe it’s time to let The Sad catch me so I can move past denial.
5:04pm Realize that being alone with my thoughts is a terrible idea. Start crying the ugly cry. Run out of materials with which to wipe my nose.
6:03pm Drizzle stops. Actual real rain begins.
6:04pm Walk into a grocery store to escape the downpour. Get pissed that I’m not able to finish the March of Self-Pity. Consider walking home in the pouring rain anyways because everyone is staring at me. Consider taking my coat off so that people can see the Micahel Kors label. Try to form functional sentences even though I can’t feel my face and have a headache from crying so hard. Be approached by multiple employees speaking to me in the tone of voice that shows you’re really proud of yourself for being so welcoming to a homeless person. Thank God that customer service has an iPhone charger that I can borrow.
6:43pm My roommate comes to scoop me up. Takes me back to where my car was towed from to see if there’s a towing company listed to call. Don’t find any signs. Begin to Google towing companies.
6:45pm Drive down the next side street on the way to our house. Pass my car. Realize I was looking on the wrong street before.
6:48pm Start thinking it’s going to be another two bottle kind of night.
Update: 2/25/15 Because the universe’s timing is always spot on (even when I vehemently disagree), I ran across another blogger talking about her ridiculous gyno visit as well today. Enjoy.