Yesterday, DZ NUTZ died on me. Actually, it was already dead when I got there, It just wouldn’t start. Now I can imagine plenty of things worse than having to return from a flight and finding your car undrivable, but can imagine how bad it – wait a second.
I’m thinking for a second about the “horrendous” night I had last night, and it doesn’t add up. I got the bus back to the terminal, threw the cab fare on the corporate card, and slept in a warm bed. And today, I have enough money to go out and buy a car to replace my dead one . . . What the fuck was I going to complain about? I lead a chamed freakin’ life.
So what’s worse than my night last night?
- Getting off the $750 round-trip flight and learning that the reason you flew all the way to DC was to have your significant other break up with you because she thought doing it over the phone would be “too impersonal.”
- Working your custodial services job for 12 hours straight, since you’re doing overtime to save some money so your kids will have Christmas this year, and then finding that all that OT won’t matter as you start thinking about all the money you’re going to spend on towing and repairs (because your car won’t start).
- Wondering why you just buzzed the Empire State Building
Am I right?
This morning, I just made myself the most wonderful breakfast burrito ever. I’m full. I’m warm. I’m happy.
Perspective is a wonderful thing sometimes. Today, I’m going to get a new car, and I’m going to be whistling all the way.