I must have walked under a ladder with an open umbrella stepping on a mirror and breaking it, all while Samantha (our resident black cat) walked in-front of my path.  And I’m sure there is Stevie Wonder’s “Superstition” playing in the distance.

Have you ever had a day that goes from bad to worse?  Try having one of those lifetimes.  I swear, one day someone is going to recognize the amazing fact that I’ve not managed to kill myself despite the crappy life that’s been handed to me.

So I’m running late this morning (what’s new?) thanks to the inept assistance I did NOT receive at Wake Med’s ER yesterday for the most heinous migraine that I’m still enduring.  After sitting there for almost 3 hours, we left and I figured I had enough drugs in the house to either kill off the migraine or kill myself off.  Either would suffice.

As you can tell, I am still alive this morning and the migraine still persists.

Wheee.

Anywho, like I stated, I woke up late.  Which is bad today because DC had a parent conference with Jake’s teacher (which we’ve already put off twice now) so we had to get a move-on.  I’m seriously considering fixing the fucking jeep that is occupying dead space in my driveway just to have an extra car to get around in.  (That’s a WHOLE OTHER POST).

And since I had the migraine from hell yesterday, I didn’t do any of my math homework OR work on the most magnificent and terrifying Anthropology take-home mid-term, compliments of Prof. Tom Beaman.  I am not afraid of it, since I can probably answer most of this shit in my sleep.  Its the other folks who are having a hard time with it and are looking to me for assistance since I am a Paleoanthropology major.

But driving in this morning on the 540, I hear this ominous FLUMP-FLUMP-FLUMP coming from the rear of the van and Dale looks at me, “Is that our car?”  To which I reply, “We’ve got a flat in the back” and I didn’t even have to look.  How’s that for being Ken Taylor’s car-repairing daughter?

Yep, flat as a fucking pancake rear driver’s side tire.  Big ol’ hunk-a-metal stuck in it.  Probably someone else’s rim.  So we schlump into the parking lot of my school, Dale whips out the phone and makes 2 calls:  1 to Jake’s teacher, apologizing yet again (she must think we’re tree sloths at this point) for not coming in to a scheduled conference and 1 to AAA.  Thank the maker that I had presence of mind to keep renewing that bad puppy. 

So he’s in the lot right now getting a tow to the tire shop.  I’m in the library working on said Anthro mid-term and now having to book it to History to listen to how awful we ALL did on HIS mid-term last week.

I’m hoping to step on sidewalk cracks, find another ladder to walk under.  I wish Samantha was here too.  She’d give added Halloween effect.