BECAUSE IT’S ME...

Wednesday, January 17, 2018.

6:30 AM.

Temperature: 19 degrees.

The city is frozen. South Texans are not used to this. In our world, shorts can pretty much be worn year round and barbecues are not limited to summer nights.

This girl, has been off from work for the past two days: On Monday, for MLK day and yesterday, because the city was shut down.

I woke up earlier than normal. There is a lot of work to make up, and the idea of being changed to my desk until 8:00 PM tonight didn’t appeal to me much. I figured, it was better to wake up super early in order to get to the office to take care of business. I figured if I got there early enough, I would still be able to leave at a time that was reasonable.

I was bundled up in my thick scarf, lumpy cheetah print sweater, and pea coat when I finally made it into my car, with my purse and carry all bag-containing my heels, planner, and water bottle-in tow. I slide the key into the ignition, turn and…

Nada. Absolutely nothing. My car had, of course, been working perfectly up until that point. I prep the starter, and turn the key several times, without actually trying to turn on the car in hopes of “warming” up the car. When I do, NPR blasts’ through the car speakers and the inside car lights hurt my eyes in the morning darkness, confirming that the battery is not the problem.

I do this for the next thirty minutes.

Nada.

Finally, I give in to the fact that the car is just not going to start. I accept fate, and head back inside to start making calls. First to my boss, stating that I won’t be in early after all, and will in fact, probably be late.

The second call is to procure a ride to work. 

An hour and a half later I am finally at my desk. Late. The hilarious part of this-not really, but you know what I mean-is that I woke up an hour earlier than normal. The irony of this is not lost on me.

Lunchtime. No lunch. No car. No food truck. Dying.

It’s a vending machine kind of day.

Now, after an eleven hour work day, I prepare to work for a few hours on-line at job #2 after this posting. 

Is there no end to this insanity?

PB&J for dinner.  

Tomorrow, I get to do it all over again.