Misery

You can't have a more miserable day than the one I just had. Today. It's still "today" but I'm hoping all the misery is over and done with.

I'll spare you all the details, but let's just say today has cost me a lot of tears and some money.

I've had on my "to do" list for a while now to get my inspection sticker renewed. For those of you that live in states that don't require you to get an inspection sticker, consider yourselves lucky. I went to get that over and done with today. The guy called me up to tell me that my car was ready. I paid. Then he said, "Let's talk."

Okay...what? You're breaking up with me?

He said, "You didn't pass." Okay...so why did I just pay?


He said, "Your 'check engine' light is on." I replied, "It's been on for two years. They said everything is fine. And why did I just pay?

So he gives me this:

Great. Thanks! I'm rejected. 

At this point in my day, I had already shed quite a few tears because of another situation I don't care to discuss on my blog. No worries. Nothing major. 

I peeled that sucker off my car so quick. All I need now is a cop to pull me over and see that my car has no inspection sticker on it. 

Well ask and you shall receive!

I decided to go on another street to get home because there's construction down the main drag. They've had a lot of cops there lately, and I didn't want them to stop me for no inspection sticker. 

So I'm driving at what I consider a minimal speed, and a cop pulls out behind me. I look in my rear view mirror and think, wouldn't it be just classic if I get pulled over? Sure enough. The lights. Those ugly blue lights. I surely wasn't going over the speed limit. 

I didn't know what to do. Would it be worse if I had the "rejected" tag or no tag at all? I make a quick decision and throw the sticker on the dash. 

"License and registration, m'am." I cry. I beg. I tell him that this is the worst day I've had in such a long time, and I can't afford this speeding ticket. 

I hear the driest "Okay, m'am. You were going 45 in a 35." He's so pleasant. 

Great. Now I'm a rejected violator. 

I'm crying uncontrollably, cursing the day this policemen and this mechanic were born. 

I call Andrew and apologize. He knows how utterly pitiful my situation is. He gives me some grace. I was headed to the grocery to get ingredients for his supper, and I tell him that I need a hug (and to fax the ticket to my dad to see what he can do about it.) 

I decide to head to the grocery first, to collect myself, and then drive over the Andrew's office. I get my ingredients for the beef stew, get to the cash register, the clerk and bagger speak in Spanish to one another. I just know they're talking about me and how crazy I am with red, cry-ridden lips and sunglasses on. 

Checking out, I realize that I left my wallet in the car. Oh yea, when I was in a frazzled state of panic when Mr. Jackass asked me for my license and registration. 

Could this day get any worse?

I calmly go to my car and get my wallet. This is not the end of the world. But I really wish these people would stop talking about me in Spanish. 

I finally get to Andrew's office since I was going 20 mph under the speed limit. I got the hug I needed. And the mercy. Thank God for him. 

The only other bad thing today was that I nearly lost my marbles trying to put a bed skirt on the guest room bed. Have you ever tried doing that by yourself? I looked like a complete freak show. Maybe like Lucy Ricardo, but way less charming and way more bitchy. I cursed all bedskirts ever made and ripped some of the seam in my haste. 

So here's the summary of my day:

My poor checkbook. It's seen it's better days. 

The tears are starting to dry on my new salmon-coral J.Crew skirt that I bought a few weeks ago: a little ray of sunshine that carried me through the most awful day.