the spazmatron strikes back
So one of the stairs at the bottom of the staircase to our apartment has been cracked for a while now. We didn't think too much of it because it's concrete and it didn't look very deep. Well. Yeah. The fucking thing broke on me yesterday as I was leaving to get Dane from work. So yes. Quite lovely. A good chunk of the stair was gone and Dane insisted on taking me to the doctor since my knee was killing me and my my hand since I tried to catch myself with the wall. We did x-rays and everything. Good news: nothing broken other than the stair. Bad news: pain and utter embarrassment. All I could think was that I'm the only person this could have happened to. I always try to walk softly up and down the stairs since it's attached to our wall and if we can hear it, so can the downstairs neighbor. Our other neighbors though clunk up and down the stairs and don't care how much noise they fucking make doing it. So, of course, I'm the idiot spaz that breaks the stair. Just my fucking luck, right?
I think I'm going to start keeping better track of these moments and list my top three spaz moments of 2008 at the end of the year.
Oh, and speaking of rankings... I'm somehow ranked #2 seller at my store for week to date and month to date. The only thing beating me is the house and that only happens when customers don't know, don't remember, or didn't have anyone help them. I don't really know how this happened since I spend so much time in the fitting rooms. Oh, and I'm now trained on register which is WAY intimidating when customers are staring at you with that 'hurry the fuck up' face.
And I'm planning a trip to Barstow for Monday, the 22nd to get a smog check. Yay, California and 2 hour drives!
I think I'm going to start keeping better track of these moments and list my top three spaz moments of 2008 at the end of the year.
Oh, and speaking of rankings... I'm somehow ranked #2 seller at my store for week to date and month to date. The only thing beating me is the house and that only happens when customers don't know, don't remember, or didn't have anyone help them. I don't really know how this happened since I spend so much time in the fitting rooms. Oh, and I'm now trained on register which is WAY intimidating when customers are staring at you with that 'hurry the fuck up' face.
And I'm planning a trip to Barstow for Monday, the 22nd to get a smog check. Yay, California and 2 hour drives!