My Terrible Day

On a Monday morning:   My car keeps sputtering out on me as I try to make it to work.  But it worked fine yesterday.  I try to make it to a shop I normally use, but it conks out on me a half mile short.  So I get it towed in, and my father drives me back to my place.

Now to look up the bus routes:  The Metro online planner is frustrating, as usual. (If you’re in the Seattle area, do not use the Metro link.  Use the Google transit planner they offer from the same site.) 

  photo by Ardfern

I make good time towards the Park & Ride, so I stop for a fast food breakfast.  The Muzak is playing Secret Agent Man, much to the delight of the woman behind the counter.  But partway through, the words sounds like “Secret Asian Man.”  I listen carefully, but the words are normal the next round through.  Hard to account for. 

 Hotel Portmeirion, where The Prisoner was filmed

public domain

Now to wash up (I did mention it was fast food, right?).  Hands sopping wet, I discover the men’s room is out of paper towels.  Not to worry.  I’ve done the grab-the-toilet-paper-when-they’re-out-of-paper-towels routine before. 

They’re out of toilet paper.  Eek. 

So I catch the bus to work without event, but it’s a twenty-five minute walk to my workplace from there.  I arrive looking suitably sweaty and tired. 

 photo by Wouterhagens

I try not to drink too much caffeine, but I decide to treat myself to a Cherry Coke. 

The machine is out of those. 

Okay, Diet Coke instead.  But I press the buttons incorrectly, and get Orange Fanta instead.  Orange Fanta?  I think of mindless women dancing in one of their commercials.  

 photo by M. Disdero

I timed  the walk so I could estimate my time for the walk back.  During the 2:00 afternoon break, someone points out the window because of the pattering sound. 

 It’s hailing.    

photo by Darkone

So I get a ride from someone to the bus stop.  The bill for my car repair is rather hefty.  And that was my terrible Monday.  

public domain