The "Goddamnits" Of My Day
I just had a pretty shitty day. This is not one of those posts that says, "Boo-hoo! My life sucks, I have no friends and no significant other, plus I will never get out of my stupid job/school!" No, this is a list of all the stupid meaningless shit that adds up. You know, the little moments that make you say, "Goddamnit."
I have beautiful little consistant periods. Thank you birth-control. Every four weeks, I have a period that goes from Thursday morning to Sunday night. Every time. Awesome, right (ladies, feel me here)? However, this time, I bled Thursday, Friday, Saturday, but not Sunday. Cool, one less day to deal with it, right? Wrong. Not a drop of blood on Sunday OR Monday, but today, Tuesday, enough to ruin a pair of undies. That is so much bullshit and I am pissed. Now, moving on.
Our room is super hot. At least 85 degrees. Why? Because the heat is either on or off, and it's on when it's already 60ish degrees outside. I was sick today when I woke up. That always stinks. Thankfully it went away by 11:00ish. I had a test in Operating Systems today that I had no idea about until the professor handed it out in class today. Whoops. I know I bombed it. I finally got a CD I bought from Amazon a month ago. Pop it into the CD player, and track 3 fucking skips at 3:28. I tried cleaning it, but it still skips. I tried ripping it, but it still skips on my computer AND my MP3 player. So, I gave in and decided to return it. I was SO happy to have that CD, and now I have to wait like another month to get it back.
It's Don McLean's Tapestry. When I was a child, my dad made me tapes of all his old Don McLean vinyls, and I loved them. I played them every night, until the tapes were all ruined. They helped me to fall asleep or at least entertained me while I lay awake all night. (I've had insomnia since age 6.) After the tapes wore out (the record player was long gone by then), I had no way of listening to my beloved Don McLean songs. I had some of his greatest hits CDs, but not this album, Tapestry. Seven years pass without me hearing those songs. Then, I remembered how much I used to love that album, so I went on Amazon.com and bought the CD. Today when I finally got it, I was thrilled. I played all those old songs I hadn't heard in years. It brought back memories and feelings I hadn't had since elementary school. It was wonderful. Then I discovered the skip. I know that one flaw (on one of my favorite songs, too) will ruin the experience every time I listen to it, so I'm biting the bullet and going through the return process.
I have beautiful little consistant periods. Thank you birth-control. Every four weeks, I have a period that goes from Thursday morning to Sunday night. Every time. Awesome, right (ladies, feel me here)? However, this time, I bled Thursday, Friday, Saturday, but not Sunday. Cool, one less day to deal with it, right? Wrong. Not a drop of blood on Sunday OR Monday, but today, Tuesday, enough to ruin a pair of undies. That is so much bullshit and I am pissed. Now, moving on.
It's Don McLean's Tapestry. When I was a child, my dad made me tapes of all his old Don McLean vinyls, and I loved them. I played them every night, until the tapes were all ruined. They helped me to fall asleep or at least entertained me while I lay awake all night. (I've had insomnia since age 6.) After the tapes wore out (the record player was long gone by then), I had no way of listening to my beloved Don McLean songs. I had some of his greatest hits CDs, but not this album, Tapestry. Seven years pass without me hearing those songs. Then, I remembered how much I used to love that album, so I went on Amazon.com and bought the CD. Today when I finally got it, I was thrilled. I played all those old songs I hadn't heard in years. It brought back memories and feelings I hadn't had since elementary school. It was wonderful. Then I discovered the skip. I know that one flaw (on one of my favorite songs, too) will ruin the experience every time I listen to it, so I'm biting the bullet and going through the return process.