Is someone making fajitas?

Right. So to continue on with karma kicking my butt….

My day was going pretty well yesterday until lunch. I was starving, and by that I mean ravished. My stomach grumbles could probably be heard in the nearby offices. So my Scottish co-worker and I head to the Pickle Barrel. I already have huge issues with this restaurant, as in, I hate it. But, sometimes The Scot and I go there for $4.99 massive ice cream sundaes for lunch. I’m convinced that’s the only thing that place is good for.

So, I’m starving and order fajitas. Yum… or so I thought. I mean, come on people, how on earth do you screw up fajitas! It must be the easiest thing to make. So the waiter delivers my food, and I’m thinking, ‘what’s that smell?’ Oh. Burnt. That’s it. The beef was burnt to a crisp, I mean, totally black and the consistency of a goddamn hockey puck. Not to mention the fact that there was no fajita spice and the veggies were raw. Seriously people. What the hell? Thankfully the waiter was nice and I didn’t pay. But I also didn’t eat. Nice. Instead I funneled another coffee to get me through the rest of my busy day. So of course when I got home I was at that point where I had lost all faith in food in general, and was so indecisive that I ordered in food that was in no way satisfying. So fine, maybe today would be better, or so I thought.

So this morning I’m rushing around getting ready, and notice my skirt is a little wrinkled. I started to iron, and got lost in some pre-coffee morning thoughts. Then I wonder, again, ‘what’s that smell?’ and ‘what’s that sizzling noise?‘ ‘Is someone making fajitas?!’ Hmmmm. That would be my hand, burning, underneath nice piping hot iron. I’m pretty sure I woke up my whole building as I screamed every swear word that came to mind. Great. So now I’m late, burnt, hungry, and still pre-coffee.

I grab my trusty Mp3, along with the rest of my junk, and head to the bus stop. I just miss the bus, of course, and wait for what seems like forever, but in reality was probably only 5 minutes. As I was waiting I had my Mp3 blasting and read the free Metro paper. I saw the bus coming, stepped forward, and wondered what the hell that sharp pain in my foot was. An exceptionally large man on a scooter chair thingy had run over my foot (the bad one of course, because, you know, I could only be so lucky for it to be the good foot). Instead of backing up, dude stays on top of my foot and gives me a nasty look. I apologized over and over, because I really didn’t look both ways before I crossed the sidewalk. He didn’t move. He told me to,”Get that shit out of my ears, and maybe then I would know if he was coming.’

I told him, ‘No, I will not take that shit out of my ears, and it was an accident, I apologized like eight times, I have nothing else to say, I am pre-coffee, burnt, sore and late, so please let me get on the bus now, or there will be some serious repercussions.’

He busted out of there like a scooter man on the run from the law.

I had a great time dealing with Staples print and copy centre today as well. What a bunch of idiots. Where do they find these people? I ordered online… it was quite the simple order, 1000 flyers, 1000 brochures. Not necessarily rocket science, but I guess to some people, it quite possibly is rocket science. I spent a large majority of my time on the phone (on hold and talking to clueless reps). No one could find the order, or knew about it, and then they did, and then they didn’t, and then they did, and then they didn’t, did, didn’t, did, didn’t…. get the picture? Blah. I mean, the last thing you should do is basically admit that you are an idiot. Idiots.

So back on the subway I go, with a hand full of massive iron burn blisters, and a throbbing foot. Of course my trusty piece of shit Mp3 player dies on me – but I leave the headphones in my ears anyways, with the hopes of it magically turning on. The seat next to me opens up, and a middle aged man plops down beside me. I could see him coming before he sat down, and could tell he wasn’t all there mentally. So as I expected, buddy starts chatting it up with me. I chat back nicely, because, well, somewhere deep down, I actually AM a nice person. He tells me his name and asks me mine. Oh boy. ‘WOW, WHAT A NAME!!!’ he screamed. He screamed my name again, and told me he was going home to write it down over and over again, so that he doesn’t forget it. Although I am aware he is totally harmless, still, that’s slightly creepy. Thankfully my stop was next, I told him it was a pleasure to meet him, and head to the doors. He screamed, ‘WOW, BYEEEEEE! BYEEEEEEEEEE!’ and then continued to scream my name over and over. Surprisingly, that is the only thing that has made me laugh all day.

On a positive note, on Monday I put together and entire Ikea bedroom by myself and am quite impressed. Seriously. Have you seen some of their instructions?

So, in closing, I am praying to the karma gods that tomorrow will be a good day. Please…. pllllleeeaaassseee. I promise to hold doors for people, say nice things, think happy thoughts, and so on and so forth. Really, I promise.