Wednesday, July 3, 2002

a world of hurt

Today is one of those days where I am convinced fate is deliberately working against me, where there seem to be forces in this world out to prevent me from getting a job, which would mean getting some money since I am seriously about two more ATM withdrawals away from flat broke, which is bad news because I still have the other two-thirds of my summer rent to pay at some point in time, I also have an almost $100 ticket that I got in late May that I have still yet to pay, and I am supposed to be saving up money to pay for school and rent next year, but as I just mentioned fate is working against me.

Today, at ten something, I dropped Bonnie off at PIRG, came home, and went into the bathroom to take a shower. I got into the shower and saw that the stupid glass shower door was off the tracks, and this always bothers me way more than it should, because I think that the floor will get all wet if the sliding shower door is not on the tracks, so I lifted the shower door unto the overhead track like I have done countless times before and let go of it once it was on the tracks like I have also done countless times before. The problem, however, is that the shower door was apparently not on the track, and so when I let go of it, it did not stay on the track as was intended but rather came crashing down on to both of my big toes. It didn't hurt right away - I was still in too much shock to realize I was in pain, or rather my foot nerves had not yet communicated with my brain, and I said, "Shit Fuck That is definitely going to hurt, I probably broke my fucking toes." And then, on cue, the pain started, and like Mr. T, and Mary Miller who co-opted his catchphrase, would say: I was in "a world of hurt." I crumpled over in pain, turned off the shower water without even taking a shower, gathered my shower belongings, and hobbled back to my room, where I curled up in horrible, horrible pain for about an hour. It hurt so much to move my feet - I really do think I may have broke my toes, which I am none too excited about.

I then lied down in Bonnie's bed, hurting so much to even walk the three feet across the room, and lied down in bed, eventually falling asleep, trying to ignore the pain and slept until four. I woke up and my toes still hurt, although not nearly as much as this morning, but I am still hobbling and walking on the back of my heels. My right toe actually I think may be okay, since it bends without aching pain, and it is not black and blue like my left toe, which has a huge gash of internal bleeding right under the surface and hurts so much whenever it touches anything. I took a picture of it, but I'm having trouble loading it, so I'll put the link up here once I get it up.

And so yeah, I did not go apply for any jobs today since I am in a world of motherfucking hurt, and tomorrow's the fourth of july, and I really don't think it would do much good to try to apply for jobs then, so I guess my job-hunting may be postponed again until Friday. Fucking shit, why am I so clumsy?

In other non-world of hurt news, I went out with Bonnie to another PIRG social last night, at this bar, Caffeli's on State Street, which was actually really fun, lots of crazy dancing. But, get this, me and Justin we are meant to be. Or at least, this is how I interpreted this little occurence. So, Heather was telling me about how before she came to Caffeli's she was at her boyfriend's new job, which is working as a bartender at the Holiday Inn, and she was telling me about how her and her boyfriend were hanging out with this really cool gay boy, Justin.

I flipped out and screamed perhaps too excitedly, thinking that this was just too weird a coincidence to keep encountering my obsession (hey second person counts) in this pretty big town of Madison. And so, I demanded physical details to know if it was the same hunk a hunk of burning love Justin that I am beyond obsessed with, and he has blond hair, a well-defined chin, a slight Wisconsin accent, and looks sort of fratty --- and whoo, it has to be him, how many gay, blonde Justins can there be. I don't know what exactly this means, other than that I am a freak, and that I may have to go apply at the Holiday Inn, with the hopes of accidentally running into hunk a hunk of burning love.

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