let’s talk…or not [take two].

sometimes my luck is comically pathetic, like a bad sitcom. and because you can only count on me being funny about 6% of the time, that means I’m mostly pathetic.

I would say I should start writing down all the “I can’t believe this is happening to me” moments, except I’d probably feel a lot worse about my life and I don’t need that kind of negativity.

but it helps that I’m chronically snarky and self-deprecating.

so, without further adieu…my misfortunes, mishaps, and the general awkwardness that is my life.

let’s talk about how Cait sent me a snapchat of her entering a car wash and having a guy approach her car alerting her that it was out of order.

flashback to my first touchless car wash experience:

by age 22 one would assume that going through a touchless car wash would be a piece of┬ácheesecake. and while I want to fault my parents for never making me do things on my own, I will assume all responsibilities for what I’m about to tell you. it was a sunny, spring day and I decided that I would take my car through the car wash. so, I drive over to the car wash attached to a gas station near my apartment, and as I slide my card to pay for the wash, I probably thought about how proud I was of myself and that this must be what adulting feels like.

I entered the wash slowly and colorful soap was quickly blasted all over my car, except I never received the signal to stop, and I exited the wash seconds after I entered. uh good feeling gone after about 30 seconds. I promptly drove out of the gas station parking lot and called my dad in tears. he told me to go back, but I had a lot of shame, so I just drove until I found the next car wash, and then my dad proceeded to walk me through what to do. he’s my biggest cheerleader.

let’s probably not talk about (or tell Ben) that I thought Lucy had been kidnapped last Sunday afternoon. I was doing a little spring cleaning throughout the house when I heard Lucy bark from downstairs, and I thought it was weird, but I kept cleaning my hair from the bathroom because I am a disgusting person. anyway, 20 minutes later I couldn’t find Lucy anywhere. and I mean anywhere. I went downstairs and expected her to be slumbering on the sofa, she wasn’t. I walked into the kitchen and expected her nose to be in the trash, it wasn’t. I ran up the stairs and asked if she wanted a treat, she didn’t respond. finally, after experiencing extreme heart palpitations, I walked towards the bed and discovered her under the mound of sheets and pillows. ignoring me like I’ve never given her a bone or taken her for a w. I’m sure it was payback for taking her to get groomed the day before.

[side note: what does it say about me as a person that my first assumption is that someone has kidnapped our dog?] c’est la craziest vie

let’s talk about how I decided to be some kind of bold this past weekend and pulled up two engagement rings on the desktop computer for Ben to “discover” when he sat down. in my head I envisioned him sitting down at the computer on Monday morning with a warm cup of coffee, the sunshine streaming through the window, and smiling to himself as he thought about how awesome his girlfriend is…

sooo, let’s not talk about how he got home just before midnight on Sunday night and was stressed out about having to send relays for state swimming next weekend, and just had to work on the desktop computer…

is my life a joke, or what’s the deal?

just kidding.

yesterday he acknowledged the nice rings I had left open on the computer and asked if they were a friendly reminder.

the friendliest!

happy hump day eve.