I should have known today was going to be a bad day when all of my bread was moldy. But it started out so well, y'know? I got a good night's sleep, didn't have freaky dreams, and couldn't sleep in past 9. (I like sleeping in if I need to, but it's nice to be up in the mornings, too.) Things start going downhill when I try and log into PlacePro only to find that I can't remember my password, nothing I try works, they have no
method of password retrieval and the only way to get customer support is to call a number that may or may not be toll-free. I grit my teeth. I burn the CD of my video for Ohayocon's AMV contest, I hop on my bike to go up town. A couple of blocks away, I hear this ungodly sound that can only be described as SKRONK
and the bike, she ain't goin' no more. I lay it down to examine the problem, and the meta chunky thingie that manages the chain (yes, that is
a technical term) on the back wheel is totally fucked. We are talking twisted metal here, people. I have no idea why--I'd been noticing some weirdness lately when I shifted gears, and the chain has slipped off a couple of times, but this is just out of nowhere. I try and push it back into place but this is a lost cause. However, I still need to get up to the post office, so I chain the bike to a tree and go.
On the way, I run into drcristin
, who probably thought I was deranged. They tell me of the generic holidays parade going on uptown--that explains the drum sounds. I go uptown. I cannot fucking get across the street to the post office because the parade is huge and evil. ARGH. Eventually, I just run across the street during a slow moment.
I do my business in the post office. I come out. I cannot cross the goddamn street
; the parade is too busy. I am in HELL because I'm feeling pissy enough because of my goddamn bike breaking. I don't have a car here, so this is actually something of a big deal for me. So I watch the parade. It's really weird and includes some woman dressed up as the Wicked Witch yelling out "Merry Christmas!" I suspect that I have gone insane when a fucking ewok
makes its way down the street, along with Darth Vader and Princess Leia. I rescind my diagnosis of insanity when I see the sign that advertises them as being from Video Spectrum, but promptly reinstate it when a giant squirrel trots on by. I have no explanation for that one.
Eventually, I see Santa coming down the road, and my heart cries out for him. Santa! Come save me! All I want for Christmas is to get out of here!
Santa must have downsized the reindeer because he takes forever to get to where I am, and then he's a damned imposter. Fuck you, Cat in the Hat. The parade is still going on
and I finally spot a gap so I run across the street while the cop's back is turned.
I walk back to where my bike is. I try a variety of different methods to get it back to the apartment. Carrying it is awkward, tiresome, and occasionally painful. Dragging is somewhat easier, but makes the bike vibrate enough that I fear it will burst into flame at any moment. Finally, finally
I get home. I pout. I am still pouting now. I think I shall watch some live-action Sailor Moon, because it is the only thing in the world that possibly has enough cuteness to save me from my Pissiness o' Doom.