This week has been simply splendid. I would say it has started off as the three best days of almost my entire life. Want to hear all about how glorious it’s been? Sure you do.Monday: I woke up on time cheerfully. Thanks to Mugs, my wedding task list was much smaller than it had been on Friday, my toes were a lovely shade of plum, and I had been wondering all weekend whether my new Vietnamese friend from the nail salon would give me one of the massage chairs as a wedding gift. I kissed my two adorable little cousins goodbye and walked out the door. I got a phone call five minutes later from my aunt telling me I left my lunch on the counter. No big-I will still be on time. I pull out of the driveway for the second time and realize my gas light has come on. Okay, fine. I will just stop by the gas station on my way to work. The gas station decided to not recognize my zip code five times. Maybe I ended up pushing the button that says “Complain to the non-English speaking attendant until they tell you to just push credit”, maybe I didn’t. I finally get on the highway and turn on the radio. I have become increasingly irritated with the radio and it’s tendency to not just play an abnormal amount of advertisements, but let the radio hosts talk about meaningless things for twenty minutes until they realize they should maybe play some music. As a conversation about where to find the best night lights started up, I started shouting at the senseless individuals who couldn’t hear me until I realized the guy next to me was shooting me a look of utter horror. Probably because I have become so unbelievably ripped lately. I rolled Old Yeller onto Foothill twenty minutes later and stared dejectedly at the one lane traffic filled with the other poor individuals who forgot it was dumb Pioneer Day. Don’t get me wrong, I normally love Pioneer Day. I normally get to run in the 10K, watch the parade with my fam, and end the day with a lovely little barbeque. Now that I have to be a grown up, I get to celebrate Pioneer Day by sitting in my cubicle for eight hours. I also get to celebrate it by following a dumb civic around the line of cones protecting the marathoners and getting treated by a rude blonde and doughnut eating police officer like I was on my way to Tiananmen Square. Just so you and the rude, yelling police officer know, the leader of the marathon was five miles away still AND whose to say I don’t live in that one house on the corner and didn’t just drive along five miles of cones. Also, you (police officer) are just bitter you are getting paid to babysit drivers today while your buddies get paid to do cool tricks on motorcycles in the parade.
Tuesday: I get myself into dangerous situations on a pretty regular basis. Usually (always) it is because I make dumb decisions. Why not run in down town Salt Lake and discover a marijuana field surrounded in barbed wire? Why not run in the mountains during a thunder storm and almost get hit by lightening? Why not kayak down an overflowing river and almost get hit by an oncoming train? Really, why not? I have also adapted to having vehicles break down on a weekly basis. The Beast, may he rest in peace, had his fair share of issues. Old Yeller has been pretty faithful (minus the brakes deciding not to work and the pathetic air conditioning). However, Old Yeller made the decision a little while ago to be a jerk and no longer wipe the rain off his brow. I made the decision to teach him a lesson on obedience and tell him he had to start working. He unfortunately has not yet graduated from L’s Obedience School and decided he still wasn’t going to work even though there was a torrential down pour yesterday. In all of the dumb situations I’ve gotten myself into, I’ve never been too afraid. I knew I could out run the high guards by the field. I knew the guys I met on my run knew CPR and could get me to a hospital should I get struck with lightening. I knew Caitlin was supposed to go on a mission so at least she would survive the kayaking trip. Yesterday, I knew I had a 20% chance of living through the storm. When I left work, there was a light drizzle. Nothing Yeller and I couldn’t survive. As he and I drove along the ever busy I-215, the rain furiously pounded my windshield. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out to try and see. This led to me swerving and almost hitting the previously invisible car next to me. My body began to register the life threatening situation I was in. I was in the middle lane surrounded by cars going 65 mph in the middle of a monsoon and, though his name implies he could fill this role, Yeller is no seeing eye dog. My hands went numb and I began to hyperventilate. I blindly drove into the next lane and prayed I would make it to the shoulder without being hit. A prayer was answered and I drove over the cement median onto an exit. I still couldn’t see anything and it was now even more dangerous because I could hit a person or a car or a tree or a light post or an office building. This is not the way I wanted to go out. I wanted to be 96 or so and have NASA drop a drugged up Sel and I a few feet above the atmosphere. As we fell through the sky, people would gawk at the beautiful star/meteor and Sel and I would warmly leave this world without pain. I didn’t want to be the girl who died because her disobedient car hates her. By some miracle, there was a parking lot of an office building two feet from the exit. I got to safely sit in that strikingly beautiful parking lot for the next 30 minutes. I would tell you I had some life altering revelation during that time about better car maintenance or using your brain more, but my body kind of gave out and I just smooshed my face against my window marveling that I wasn’t dead. You’d think that was all Tuesday had in store for me. But no, Tuesday wanted to see me in my best light yet. I was supposed to pick up my dress from the bridal shop that has given a new definition to “Incompetence”. I was 85 minutes late and didn’t really feel all that bad about it (since they have just been marvelous at meeting deadlines), told the Dominican seamstress “Gracias”, and scooped up my dress AND the wrong veil. I stared at the needles on Gladys’ desk wondering how much of a mess I would cause if I jabbed one into my jugular. I marched in what I hoped was menacingly down the stairs and informed the worker that this was gianormous two tired taffeta mess was not the veil I ordered. She apologized and grabbed the veil I tried on when I ordered it telling me she steamed both the one in my hand and the one on the rack cause she couldn’t remember which one it was. Thank goodness I was on my way to see Sel or I might just have ripped the thing to shreds in my fury. I thanked her and left the store that I will never, ever, ever have to go back to. And then I saw Sel and everything in the world was wonderful again.
Wednesday: Today is going chipper so far. I left my badge in Yeller and had to drive my cousin’s car the fifteen minutes back to get it and then I was crushed by a stampede of zoo animals. Okay, the very last part hasn’t happened. Yet. I do work really close to the Hogle Zoo though… The possibilities for today’s adventures truly are endless. If you reach for the moon, you might just fall through the atmosphere as a human star
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