Sub-subject: MY FUCKING LIFE SUCKS
The final that I'm supposed to be in started 6 minutes ago. My fucking car wouldn't start. My fucking car wouldn't fucking start so I could fucking get to my fucking french final and I am so fucking pissed off and so fucking upset right now that I have almost gotten to the point of fucking making myself fucking physically sick.
How do you like them apples?
I spent ten minutes frantically calling EVERYONE I knew. And their parents (or respective homes). I got a hold of ONE person. One fucking person actually answered their fucking phone. And it was Candace's dad.
Fuck. We all have fucking cell phones because with live in a fucking community that feels that every man, woman and child should have one...AND NO ONE TURNS THEM THE FUCK ON!!!
So I come back inside from the freezing cold where I have been trying to get the fucking engine to turn while dialing every number I can in my cell. It's 12:15 and there would be no way that I could get there even if I got a hold of someone. So I call mommy at work, just to tell her. She's on her lunch break, so I talk to her voice mail and basically breakdown. I don't know if she'll be able to hear what I was saying, I was crying so hard.
So at 12:20 when the final is supposed to begin, Allie calls me from there, wondering where I am. I say, probably a little to angrily "I'm at home because my fucking car won't start. And I tried to call everyone, and none of you had your phones on." She tells me there is a make-up at 2:20. I say that I have rehearsal, and might not even make it to that.
So she gives the phone to Madame, who is by far the most wonderful woman in the world. After I tell her what I told Allie (a little nicer and without the swearing), she tells me that it's alright and that she'll call me later. As she's hanging up, I hear her say "Poor thing", because I was crying and gasping for breath the whole time.
I think the thing that makes me the most upset, is that it shouldn't. It's a fucking French final. And I'll be able to make it up, at that. And it's only a car. A fucking piece of shit car that I hate with all of my being right now, but never the less, it's just a car. And these things happen. Everyday.
So why do I feel like I'm going to be sick?
The final that I'm supposed to be in started 6 minutes ago. My fucking car wouldn't start. My fucking car wouldn't fucking start so I could fucking get to my fucking french final and I am so fucking pissed off and so fucking upset right now that I have almost gotten to the point of fucking making myself fucking physically sick.
How do you like them apples?
I spent ten minutes frantically calling EVERYONE I knew. And their parents (or respective homes). I got a hold of ONE person. One fucking person actually answered their fucking phone. And it was Candace's dad.
Fuck. We all have fucking cell phones because with live in a fucking community that feels that every man, woman and child should have one...AND NO ONE TURNS THEM THE FUCK ON!!!
So I come back inside from the freezing cold where I have been trying to get the fucking engine to turn while dialing every number I can in my cell. It's 12:15 and there would be no way that I could get there even if I got a hold of someone. So I call mommy at work, just to tell her. She's on her lunch break, so I talk to her voice mail and basically breakdown. I don't know if she'll be able to hear what I was saying, I was crying so hard.
So at 12:20 when the final is supposed to begin, Allie calls me from there, wondering where I am. I say, probably a little to angrily "I'm at home because my fucking car won't start. And I tried to call everyone, and none of you had your phones on." She tells me there is a make-up at 2:20. I say that I have rehearsal, and might not even make it to that.
So she gives the phone to Madame, who is by far the most wonderful woman in the world. After I tell her what I told Allie (a little nicer and without the swearing), she tells me that it's alright and that she'll call me later. As she's hanging up, I hear her say "Poor thing", because I was crying and gasping for breath the whole time.
I think the thing that makes me the most upset, is that it shouldn't. It's a fucking French final. And I'll be able to make it up, at that. And it's only a car. A fucking piece of shit car that I hate with all of my being right now, but never the less, it's just a car. And these things happen. Everyday.
So why do I feel like I'm going to be sick?
- Feeling:
irate - Tunes:Stop - Matchbox Twenty
Profile
gailmarie- Gail
- *poofgone*
Comments
Justin: Gail! What did you do to it?
Gail: I don't know! It just won't start!
JC: I can't do this. I just got my nails done this morning, and I'm NOT going to get that dirt under my nails!
Joey: You're such a sissy.
JC: Oh yeah? Well, why don't you get in there then?
Chris: Yeah, tough guy! You think you know so much, you fix it!
Lance: Hey! Back off Chris. You are the one that is into this kind of crap. Joey? Are you alright honey?
Gail: Um...guys? I'm kinda in a hurry.
Justin: What do you want? *throws arms dramatically* We're the singing dancing kind of boys, not sweaty, dirty mechanics! *bursts into tears*
Chris: Drama queen.
JC: You are so mean Chris. You never think of anyone feelings. *puts arm around Justin* It's okay babe. I'll call a mechanic. We'll get this taken care of.
Justin: *sniffling* O-ok.
Lance: Hey, Gail? Um, it seems that I have a spot of grease on my shirt. Do you have anything I could borrow? It has to be glittery, but I would settle for just sequins since I'm in a bit of a pinch.
Joey: Oh! And make it skin-tight! And orange. He looks so good in orange.
JC: And can I use your phone to call a mechanic? I knew it was a bad idea to try to fix it ourselves.
Chris: Yeah, I think we've done more damage than help. Here. *hands Gail a greasy car part* I don't know where this came from, but, uh, yeah. I think you might need it.
Gail: *rolls eyes* Thanks.
And as always, things turned out all right in the ends. *rolls eyes* I always get worked up over the stupidest stuff.