The Week that Never Should Have Been
Last week was the most chaotic week of my life. Everything went off-balance.
First: My sister borrowed my truck. Normal enough. I go to work and come back, my truck's not back yet. Not so normal. I get inside, my sister's sitting on the couch. Now obviously, I'm wondering why she's here, but not my truck. But I don't worry about it, because my dad wasn't home, so I figured he was probably using it.
Later that day, I go to the park with my friend Matt to watch some softball games. Just as we get down there, my dad pulls up in his car and tells me that my truck broke down. Well, that's fairly typical of my truck, because it's a piece of crap. What I didn't know was, it broke down while my sister was borrowing it. She must've just "forgotten" to tell me about it. On top of that, I found out that it didn't break down at the house, but outside of Eaton, a city about 11 miles from where I live. So I leave the park and we drive where it was at. Still there. I get in the truck and see if I can start it. I see, once I get in, that the key is in the ignition. My sister had left the key in the ignition. Not only that, but she left the key on. Which means that the battery's dead. Oh boy. So I try to start it. It's making some nasty grinding sound in the motor. Not good. Not at all. It's not starting. I'm ticked.
We begin pushing the truck home. Yeah, from Eaton. I know. Someone driving by put their head out of their window and screamed, "Fifty bucks!" Next thing you know, my dad sold my truck for $50. Without my consent or anything. But though the deal was made we still had to push it home.
Once getting home, my mother proceeded to ground me because the trash guys came to pick up our trash, which wasn't out yet. Sounds like a legit reason, except that I got the trash out. The problem was, they came 3 hours early. So in one day, my truck dies and is sold, and I get grouded.
I continue to get yelled at for the next few days as well. On Saturday, at about 2 a.m., the worst event of the week happened. But I'd frankly rather not talk about it. So I'm leaving it at that.
First: My sister borrowed my truck. Normal enough. I go to work and come back, my truck's not back yet. Not so normal. I get inside, my sister's sitting on the couch. Now obviously, I'm wondering why she's here, but not my truck. But I don't worry about it, because my dad wasn't home, so I figured he was probably using it.
Later that day, I go to the park with my friend Matt to watch some softball games. Just as we get down there, my dad pulls up in his car and tells me that my truck broke down. Well, that's fairly typical of my truck, because it's a piece of crap. What I didn't know was, it broke down while my sister was borrowing it. She must've just "forgotten" to tell me about it. On top of that, I found out that it didn't break down at the house, but outside of Eaton, a city about 11 miles from where I live. So I leave the park and we drive where it was at. Still there. I get in the truck and see if I can start it. I see, once I get in, that the key is in the ignition. My sister had left the key in the ignition. Not only that, but she left the key on. Which means that the battery's dead. Oh boy. So I try to start it. It's making some nasty grinding sound in the motor. Not good. Not at all. It's not starting. I'm ticked.
We begin pushing the truck home. Yeah, from Eaton. I know. Someone driving by put their head out of their window and screamed, "Fifty bucks!" Next thing you know, my dad sold my truck for $50. Without my consent or anything. But though the deal was made we still had to push it home.
Once getting home, my mother proceeded to ground me because the trash guys came to pick up our trash, which wasn't out yet. Sounds like a legit reason, except that I got the trash out. The problem was, they came 3 hours early. So in one day, my truck dies and is sold, and I get grouded.
I continue to get yelled at for the next few days as well. On Saturday, at about 2 a.m., the worst event of the week happened. But I'd frankly rather not talk about it. So I'm leaving it at that.