Sunday

Horrible day.

1. Around what I assume is noon on Sunday, I turn on computer and see that computer says it is actually 2:00. Who am I to argue with Steve Jobs’ version of time? It appears I have forgotten which way clocks were supposed to go last night.

2. Crap.

3. In horror, realize I have a Big Date at 3:00. Eek!

4. Haul booty around apartment, frantically getting ready for date. Must catch 2:30 Metro if I am going to make it to Big Date. No time to pick out a Really Cute Outfit. Instead, I settle for a Moderately Cute Outfit.

5. Grab makeup to put on while riding the Metro and make it to the train with seconds to spare.

6. Thank All That is Divine that I wore comfortable shoes so I could sprint between the closing Metro doors and still make it onto the Metro with all my limbs.

7. Arrive at Place of Date at 2:45. Look at me go. And the Questionably Smelly Guy riding my Metro car even told me I looked pretty. All set for date.

8. It’s 3:30 and no date. Double check time with hostess at restaurant to make sure Steve Jobs’ time is actually Real People Time. It is. But get The Look of Utter Pity from the hostess. It’s clear I am being stood up despite my efforts to play it Cool Like Ice.

9. Wait until 4:15 just in case Date Boy messed up Daylight Savings as well.

10. By now I have realized that my phone is mysteriously dead. Perhaps Date Boy has called and I can’t receive his message? Moment of hope!

11. Hostess is uber understanding of my situation. I assume that in the past other women have stood around her Hostess Stand with desperate looks. She must also see me giving death glares to my phone. In a moment of Girl Solidarity, she offers to let me use the restaurant phone to check my messages. Nothing from Date Boy. Grr. Hostess becomes Angry At Men on my behalf. Also, it is clear she still pities me.

12. Must get out of Date Place. I have long ago surpassed the time I could leave Date Place with dignity still intact.

13. On the way home, I decide to forgo previously planned stop at Whole Paycheck. Groceries have been bumped down the priority list. Who needs food when I just want to go home and wallow in shame?

14. Get off Metro and slowly walk up long, gigantor hill until at last I reach my apartment building. Seems to be a metaphor for my dating life. Or something.

15. Put on comfy pants and t-shirt, plug in phone to recharge, go to get bottle of wine. No wine. Meant to pick up a few bottles at grocery store (see #10 above). Ugh.

16. Cats look at me with pity and begin to purr in non-judgy, loving manner. How do they know?

17. Locate vodka. Nice substitute for wine.

18. Go check phone. Not recharging. Crud. It appears I need to get a phone that was made this century. Plan stop to Verizon store tomorrow before work.

19. After praising the makers of Absolute, I realize my friend won’t be able to come over later tonight because have no way to contact her. So much for that plan. So much for my social life. More vodka!

20. Decide that I need something to help soak up Wine Substitute. Otherwise, work might be a wee bit painful tomorrow.

21. Locate Emergency Stash of Skittles.

22. Skittles are stale. And it’s a new bag. Darn Skittles!

23. Decide to eat at them anyway.

24. Odd crunching sound.

25. With horror, I realize that something is not right in my mouth.

26. Go to bathroom and smile in mirror. Uh oh! I look like a hick. Well, more than usual anyway. I’ve chipped my front tooth on the stale Skittles. Mantra: Don’t cry. This can be fixed. They are only your front teeth. Don’t cry…

27. The universe hates me.

28. Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks? To better assess Mouth Situation, I try to get up on the bathroom counter.

29. Hear ripping sound.

30. It appears I have ruined my favorite Comfy Pants struggling to get better vantage point.

31. Enough is enough. It’s time to call it a day.

32. Grab DVD to watch in bed. After all, it’s only 5:49.

33. Start watching appropriately sappy and not in the least big realistic but still strangely comforting Teen Drama.

34. Funky grinding sound 4 or 5 minutes into first episode.

35. After 45 minutes of trying everything (i.e. hitting the machine, cursing, jiggling wires, unplugging it, wondering why the red wire still connects to nothing), it appears that my DVD player is broken. Or at least broken beyond my tech skills.

36. Go to bed for real this time.

37. Begin to cry heart out.

38. Damn it. I am out of tissue.

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6 Responses to “Sunday”

  1. Ally Says:

    this didn’t really happen….

    PLEASE tell me this didn’t really happen.

  2. kjohnsonesq Says:

    Totally did. I am thinking of posting pictures of my tooth. But that might be a little too up close and personal. And my new phone battery costs $32 and change. Darn thing better last until July when I can get an iPod!

  3. spencer Says:

    Holy craptastic day. The week can only get better from here, right? Or, at the very least, you now know you need more wine.
    -Laura

  4. me Says:

    Oooo, great idea. Get your tooth crowned with 24 kt. Gold. AND a fat diamond set in it!

    Best lemons to lemonade oportunity ever!

  5. Wherein I go crazy and enter a contest « Who Invented Roses Says:

    […] time I found out he was married when we ran into his wife in a mall. The Sunday I was stood up was a close runner up, but just not on the same level of heinous. Plus, does it count as an actual Worst Date if the […]

  6. Emma Says:

    I think you should enter this one. It’s sort of heart-breaking, but the most effectively written.

    (This is Niblet from dollhouseforums, btw)

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