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PROFANITY WARNING

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?

Comments

mercgirl57
Feb. 1st, 2002 04:13 pm (UTC)
Re:
I had quite a good time writing it here at work. I had to try to explain to my co-workers why I was laughing so hard, and they just stared back. Some people have no imaginations! Glad to hear things turned out okay!

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