Iced

I like many things iced — coffee, tea, cubes, etc.

But, sandwiches? No, my bowels couldn’t handle that; I’m sure of it. Nor my taste buds. And I don’t feel like testing the threshold of my gag reflex.

My lunch hour is a sacred 60 minutes of my life. It’s that one hour of my day where I can mentally escape from the vultures who hang low over my desk, picking at my patience and exhausting my being of every ounce of energy I possess. I just cannot waste this precious moment of my day. And bringing a delicious lunch to munch on as I watch reruns of the Office is my idea of a wonderful lunch break. (Thus is the life of a working gal, carless and never in the mood to walk across the street to sit in the heat and people watch as I eat.)

However, after I carefully placed my familiar chicken salad sandwich on the second shelf of the refrigerator, I engage in pleasantries and casual chit-chat with my officemate as I skim over emails … until one catches my eye.

The refrigerator in the break room does not appear to be cooling – I threw out some stuff that’s been in there for weeks and really smelled.
We’ll see what we can do to get it fixed.  (The freezer is working).

Are you serious? My sandwich is heavy with mayonnaise (gross, I know, but hey, it’s from Trader Joe’s, so you know it’s some of the healthiest-ish mayonnaise around) and chicken. Cooling is a must.

So, my genius self put the sandwich in the freezer.

For two hours.

Unintentionally, of course.

Needless to say, I was left with a frozen sandwich and the need to spend more money.

To top things off, I forget to ask for a half sandwich at the nearby deli … that I had to walk to … in the heat.

I will never see those two extra dollars again.

I feel fucking bloated.

ConstantlySad

Keys

All I wanted was to start my day off right.

A lovely morning, a lovely stroll, and a double rainbow all across the sky.

I was happily skipping on my double rainbow, stopping to eat some sunshine berries, when my entire life turned to death.

I realized that I had locked the keys in the car.

A rush of cold sweat poured down my forehead. I may have soiled myself. What was once all good and fluffy bunnies in the world, was now a death rocket that shot out rotten banana paste.

I was forced to brave multiple hours of public transit to pick up a spare key from deep within the concrete jungle.

Among travelers who’s minds were lost, and renegade sidewalk surfers, I pushed deep into a land without rainbows.

After a lifetime in purgatory, I barely escaped with my life. I salvaged the spare key and returned home.

My life is forever a thunderstorm of hate.

ConstantlySad

Broken

All I wanted was to ride my skateboard.

I eagerly walked out into the cool night air, finally Arizona is below the triple digits!

In one fluid motion I tossed my skateboard onto the ground, jumped, pressed into the grip tape, and began pushing.

The refreshing breeze gave me a new life, I loved every second. The darkness didn’t bother me, the poorly lit sidewalks didn’t cause any threat. I pushed and pushed, gaining speed each time my foot hit the ground. Cars, people, lights, bushes, benches, all passed by me in a rush of fun and excitement!

However, one thing that refused to pass by me in compliance like all of the other friendly objects, was a large piece of sidewalk that angrily struck itself into the air above the rest of the smoothly shaped ground around me.

Full speed, too fast for my feet to save me. My board stopped, I continued. Straight into the ground.

I landed on a combination of my head and shoulder, like the shampoo, but not. This head and shoulder went numb until I could regain my composure. I waited a few minutes. Continued on my way, slept through the night, woke up at 5a.m. to turn off the alarm, sat up…*POP*.

Hmm that’s probably not good.

Broken collarbone.

ConstantlySad