Friday the 13th on a Monday

When I left for work this morning I was loaded down more than usual.  I had my usual giant hand bag filled to the brim, but because it was Monday and because I was going to the Red Sox game tonight, I had an extra bag with me.  I was carrying breakfast for the week, a big jar of peanut butter (don't ask) a hard cover book, makeup, nail polish, 2 extra jackets, a thermal top, an umbrella, book, mp3 player and the list went on.   But so what, right?  The bus drops me off across the street from my office so I don't have to walk very far.

Or so I thought.

After the bus crossed the Tobin Bridge and took the exit to Charlestown, it BROKE DOWN.  The bus stalled and then would not start back up again.  Damn!  I had 2 options: walk the rest of the way or wait and flag down the next bus.  I knew the next bus was at least 20 minutes away so I decided to walk even though I was loaded down with all that shiat.  We were pretty much dumped on the grassy shoulder of a highway and I thought being a moving target was safer than just standing there.

As I'm walking (in the rain natch) like a pack mule I decide to take the "glass is half full" point of view.  I tell myself that maybe this is a good thing!  I'll get my walk in, and I wouldn't have time to do that tonight cuz I was going to the game.  Unfortunately the good attitude didn't last long, because things went from bad to worse quickly enough.  The grassy shoulder turned into a decent albiet small sidewalk.  Nice.  But then.....I had to cross a bridge.  On foot.  Which swayed with each passing car.  During morning rush hour traffic.  And the pathway I was walking on was like a loooooooooong metal grate so I could see the cold water below me as everything swayed.  Oh and the rain made it slippery too.  My mood went from happy to scared like that.  Yet I made it into work in about 20 minutes.

Because I was carrying too many bags I couldn't really use my umbrella.  Mind you, I spent an extra 10-15 minutes on my hair this morning because I'd be meeting clients at the game tonight, and rain frizzes my hair like you wouldn't believe.  It's not a big exaggeration to say that when I went to the ladies room, this is what was staring back at me in the mirror:

Fawk.  All that extra hair straightening for nothing.  (You guys have it so easy) I decided to do the ponytail thing to contain the frizz.

I left work a little later than usual but it was still too early to go to the park.  I decided to go to McDonalds because they had indoor seating and get a drink, a bite, and do my nails. Yes, at this point I'm still trying to look nice for the clients, but I shouldn't have bothered.

My weakness at McDonalds is the fries but I was determined not to indulge in them.  I decided to get a small salad and my big treat was a Diet Coke.  I've been off the Diet Crack Coke and the thought of a cup full of ice and DC was just what the doctor ordered.  Because this Mickey D's was near Fenway it was pretty packed but I got a booth.  Nice!  I settle down with my salad, my book and my beloved Diet Coke.  Mmmmm I take that first long pull of my soda and *gag* it's....it's....NOT Diet Coke.  I take another timid sip and it dawns on me that this is ROOT BEER.  Ugh.  I look at the cover and see that none of the little buttons are pushed down.  I leave my salad and book on the table, grab all my other crap, plus the rootbeer and go back to the cashier, but it's a huge line.  As I'm thinking about cutting I realize/remember that the soda was self serve! Doh!  I did this myself!  All the poor cashier did was hand me a cup.  So I go back to the soda machine, dump out the contents, then wipe the inside of the cup with napkins so I wouldn't have residual rootbeer taste in my DC and get myself a new icey drink.  Mmmmmmm  I couldn't believe I was the one who put the foul tasting substance in my cup!

So I FINALLY get back to the booth.  Seems like no one's touched my salad or book and now I can have my soda.  Mmmmm I take another long drink and..........

ROOT BEER.

Again.

Wtf!  There was only one diet coke spigot and it was hooked up to root beer.  All I wanted was my soda but it was not to be.  I told the cashier and got my money back.  Now SOMEHOW during all of this, I got a huge stain on my pants.  And by huge I mean a light brown stain on my left thigh from like my hip to almost my knee.  I don't know how it happened and I didn't see it until I arrived in Fenway and shook hands with Barbara and Steve.  It was there larger than life and easily the side of my hand.  So yeah, I looked like a stained slob with frizzy hair.

But Steve bought me a hot coffee, peanuts and a hot dog.  Oh and then when Barbara and I were discussing Varitek's age Steve said "You couldn't possibly be 40 yrs old."  Mama likes Steve!

But I'd had more than enough.  If I left the game early I could catch the 10pm bus.  At this point the Red Sox were losing 5-0 so that's exactly what I did.  I left early.  I mean this was surely a loss after sweeping the Yankees, right?

Wrong.

I left and missed a great come from behind win.  Somehow they ended up winning 8-7.  I am entirely certain this was because I left the game.

I'm home, writing this up, staring at the huge stain on my pants that is dry and stiff, and for the life of me I cannot figure out what it could be, but who cares.  At least this day is over.

Oh, did I mention the racoons are back?  The neighbors say they saw the racoons on top of my porch, scratching at MY bedroom window.  Natch.

If you hear any blood curdling screams in the distance, that means they got in.

Josie