School starts tomorrow. Ugh. Here's what my day looks like:
6:30 am - Get in shower. Hot oil hair. Wash hair. Condition hair. Wash self. Rinse out conditioner.
7:00 am - Put on clothes. Gather all school shit, plus all sorority shit for meeting.
7:15 am - Leave for school.
7:30 am - Curse the terrible parking. It's 7:30 am! Park at Murphy Center because I don't feel like driving around other lots.
8:00 am - ASCI 4200: Intro to Math Investments. I cannot pronounce my teacher's name. I can't even spell it.
8:55 am - Class is over, unless this guy is like all math teachers and tries to keep us longer. I'll really be cursing at this point. I'd like to think I'll be productive during this window, but I'll probably just nap in the Mass Comm building.
10:20 am - Honors biology. One of these days, I won't get mono and killer migraines, and I'll actually FINISH this fucking class. Round four, here I come! Seriously, I've taken the first test three times.
12:25 pm - Class is over. I know it will be. Then I'm gonna kill some time in the Sidelines office typing up the meeting agenda. Then I'll head over to Student Orgs to make many copies.
1:50 pm - Thank God, it's time for tap dance with Claire. And I know Angela won't keep us the whole time, which is kind of a shame, because my next class is immediately following this one, and it's in the other dance studio.
3:00 pm - Pilates. Woot! Again, Angela won't keep us the whole time today.
4:00 pm - Fill out story assignment sheets and photo assignment sheets.
5:00 pm - Give out assignments to my writers.
5:30 pm - Eat something. I'm starving by this point.
7:30 pm - Arrive for sorority meeting.
7:45 pm - Start meeting.
9:00 pm - End meeting. Go to Starbucks to get my tips and my success profile thing I have to fill out by Tuesday. Damnit.
10:45 pm - Arrive home. Read The DaVinci Code. Lose mind.
So, in order to soften the blow, here's some cool shit: I met Aron Ralston today (if you don't know who he is, just Google it - I'm sure you'll get plenty of results).
And, finally, the story of the weekend and the reason for this blog title.
After work on Friday I was on the phone with Claire and about to turn into my driveway when I noticed a car pulling out of it, stopped by the mailbox. The car had no headlights on. I should also mention that the crackhead/meth lab neighbors (these are wild speculations, but if you ever talked to them, you'd see how I draw these conclusions) had several people over, and we have adjacent gravel driveways, so they aren't realy separated.
I stopped in the road, waiting for the car to pull out. After waiting a while, I turned on my signal to indicate to the driver that I was trying to pull into the driveway. Instead of pulling out, however, the car opted to back up to let me in. Still no headlights.
I pulled in and parked in my front yard so the car could still get out. Well, as it was backing up, it hit the neighbors' blue truck (they got a new temporary tag, by the way, so it expires Sept. 3 - it always bothered me that until recently the tag had expired June 25).
Well, I get out of my car to go inside, because work was HELLISH. Then this woman gets out of the car, obviously missing some teeth and obviously under the influence of at least alcohol and possibly more.
"Hey! I just hit this truck!"
Yes, I saw you hit that truck. I'm not really concerned with it, as it is not mine.
"It's not my truck," I replied.
"Well, I'm pretty pissed! Do you have insurance?"
Not for you hitting other trucks. I do have insurance, but it only covers me and my vehicle. I didn't ensure all of Murfreesboro. And if I'd hit a parked truck, I'd be pissed, too. I should also mention that she wasn't standing too well.
"Yes, but it's not my truck."
"Well, it's going to be your ass!"
Um, yeah, not seeing how that'll happen, being as though I wasn't driving any of the vehicles involved in the accident, nor do I own any of them. However, if you're really set on filing a claim, I should let you know that in order to do so, you must have a police report. If you'd like me to call the police, I'd be happy to tell them how you were on my property without my permission driving a car while intoxicated without having your headlights on when you backed into a parked truck. Then, if you'd like to turn it over to your insurance (if you have it), I'm sure they'd be glad. They could probably use a laugh. By the way, did I mention I'm an insurance minor? Yeah, you picked the wrong person to be an idiot to.
She said some more things in an effort to threaten me, but I just went inside to recap it for The Tina and Brian Doesn't Know. Then a knock came on the door, and one of the Crackfest 2005 participants was standing there, apologizing repeatedly about the incident and inquiring about it. The Tina and I were happy to reiterate it. The drunk bitch had apparently gotten out of the driveway finally. Maybe she careened into something shortly thereafter. It wouldn't surprise me.
"I'll pay for any damage to his truck," the guy said.
Again, I don't give a shit about the truck. It's not mine. I have no emotional stake in what happens to the truck. Just because I witnessed the hitting of the truck doesn't mean I'm involved. I'm not. I don't care. Just keep your dumbass drunk friends from acting like idiots around me, and I'm usually pretty happy.
So now, my favorite question I've been asked lately is "Do you have insurance?" I still laugh whenever I think about it.
Today, The Tina told me that the female neighbor had banned the drunk bitch from their home and kept apologizing. I really hope I don't run into her, because she wants to apologize to me, too. Apparently, the drunk bitch tried to tell the female neighbor that I hit her, which would have been quite an accomplishment as I would have had to drive through my yard, turn around (my turning radius is not great), and rear-end her. Brian was parked behind Tina in the driveway, so there wasn't any room for me to do this if I wanted to.
Luckily, female neighbor knew drunk bitch was full of shit, as apparently her car had left a bit of paint residue on the truck bumper. She then came out with a hammer and said she'd just take it out of her car because she knew the drunk bitch didn't have insurance.
So the moral of the story: Buy insurance. And if they have insurance for wrecks that happen in your vicinity, I'd be impressed.
"You had a wreck near me? No problem - it's covered!" Thanks to Manderson for that contribution.
Monday, August 29, 2005
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