Isn't this day supposed to be lucky? Full of four leaf clovers, green beer and Irish cheer? Not mine.
Mine started with waking up sick and calling into work. I had a doctor appointment already scheduled for 8:45 a.m. so I was planning on coming home from that and watching Sex & the City DVDs all day. Well, apparently the St. Patrick's Day Gods had a different plan for me.
I was on my way home and decided NOT to stop at Dunkin Donuts for my usual after-doctor-donut (it's a ritual I have for myself; a chocolate frosted donut after every doctor appointment). I decided going home and eating a banana would be healthier -- mistake numero uno. Then I was hit with the dilemma of taking either a right or a left to go home; either way would take me about the same time. I decided to take a right -- mistake numero dos.
The next thing I know, I'm plowing into an SUV of a mean old man and watching the hood of my beautiful baby Mustang crumple up and start smoking. The mean old man that I hit got out of his car and came up to mine and said, "Well THANK YOU." Yes sir, your welcome. You're totally right to think that the one thing that I wanted to do today was wreck my car and spend half the day that I had off of work and didn't feel well by messing with car insurance, Ford and Enterprise. So yeah, you're totally welcome.
This all happened at approximately 9:45 a.m. and after the cops, dealership and rental car stops, I got home a little after 1:00 p.m., too shaken up to just lay in bed and watch my Sex & the City DVDs like I'd planned.
I finally had my post-car-accident breakdown when I was home alone. I was, however, very proud of myself for not doing it in front of the mean old man and police officers and firemen (that had to come because the mean old man's old lady sister cried and cried about her neck and it seemed completely fake).
Worst St. Patrick's Day, EVER! I could use plenty of green beer right about now.
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