justalonewolf007
Member
- Apr 30, 2007
- 657
- 0
Sometimes, you just face a day that really does make you step back and take a new look at life. In this case...my ribs still hurt from laughing!
Today started out about four days ago with finals, and my frantic daily checks of my bank account to see if I could scrape by with another trip to the Sandbox in Wisconsin.
(NO copilot this time!!!!)
I began finishing projects, and staying on campus well past midnight, only to scramble home and spend the rest of the night writing papers.
Friday came about, and a few friends from school kindly decided that they were going to take me out for icecream. Somehow...they didn't get the picture that I had a cabanaboy already, and unbenownst to me, I was being set up on a blind date.
So there I was...sitting with some poor guy I had never seen before in my life. He was somewhat pretty, but neither of us knew what was going on, and our friends nowhere to be seen nor were they answering phones. The end result is that we had a nice little 2.5 hour chat over empty bowls of icecream while we waited for them to come back. I may have been distracted slightly at times, as I was plotting some rather bloody murders.
That little shenanigan took dang near 6 hours of valuable study time away from me, and set me back on the roads quite late. I got home, and was instantly called by three people trying to make sure I had enough food to last a weekend, as I was apparantly about to be snowed in.
I was in no mood to be pushed around by a petty shower of snowflakes.
"I'm racing."
My bank account, however, said "No you're not."
I used the depressing mood to get some more papers done...and spent all but two hours doing so. I had only had about 6 hours of sleep during the past two nights, but I decided to push through and keep working anyways.
I later received an email from a professor that I had dedicated an entire paragraph to some place called the "Sandbox" and in my "Women of World Literature" rough draft.
Oops.
I decided that it was a sign that I needed to race. I am invincible, y'know, and don't need sleep!
At that point, I forgot what day it was, but kept working on my papers and projects. Somewhere in there I managed another two hours of unintentional napping. When I woke up, I was shivering under all of my 25 blankets (okay...there's only 8).
Something was obviously up, because it sounded like a train was trying to batter itself though the walls of my apartment. The cold was certainly coming in like there were no walls at all. Sure enough, the heat wasn't working.
I ventured out of the blanket pile just long enough to plug a little space heater in the wall, and set it on "turbo." With the howling wind, my curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked out my window to see that it was snowing avalanche sized snowflakes, and the wind was blowing so hard that I could hardly see across the tiny parking lot.
"Drat."
I leaned against the door to push it open so I could see what was going on...but to no avail. 5.5 inches was all it gave, and there was not a thing I could do to force it open any further.
"Snowed in. Literally. Double drat."
I hid back under the covers, and polished off another paper. Checking to be sure that there were no passages about lusting after Service Honda Bikes, then sent it off to my instructor.
I decided to finally crawl out of my blankets and have some hot soup, only to discover that I don't actually own a can opener!!!
It sat and mocked me for the the next few minutes of the day, until I got fed up and picked up the one thing that would *surely* take care of everything. My trusty beat up machete.
I carefully posed my unsuspecting victim on the sink, where it wouldn't make a huge mess if it split open a little too far, then stepped back and raised my "can opener" above my head poised in the attack stance drilled into my head through a year's worth of sword classes.
Pause. Center weight on the rear foot. Steady and balance for strike. Inhal---
"holy Amazon BATMAN!!! WTH AM I DOING!?!?!"
At this moment, I had caught the sight of myself out of the corner of my eye in the full length mirror, poised to kill. There are no words for disturbingly funny it was.
I set my weapon down...and decided to have ramen noodles instead.
Monday came quickly, and I found that my door was even more jammed shut. However there was a cute little 1 foot snowdrift inside the entry of my apartment. "Drat snow and all its evilness."
I stuffed on all my warm clothes and went to see if the car would start in the -18 degrees, and shovel some of the snow away from my doors. The flying alero was completely covered and buried in a drift, so I dug my way inside and started praying that it'd start. It was just far enough away, that all my extension cords hooked together fell short by about 5 feet from the block heater.
It started.
I found that my left hand has very little grip strength (another appointment on wednesday to get that checked out) while trying to shovel...and ended up pushing the silly thing around like a goon until I had sortof cleared a path.
Being as my jacket had been permanently borrowed last year, I stopped at walmart and picked up an el-cheapo that would suffice with all the other layers I had on, and finally made it to campus.
I typed away like a banshee and handed in another paper before going to lunch with the dad. On my way back, I landed a parking spot away from where I usually enter the building, but being as it was close to the door, I took it.
I unbundled, once inside, and hung my jacket on a chair where it was in good view so I could keep an eye on it. I stepped in for a quick discussion with my old boss, and then went back to my frantic writing. Something wasn't quite right, but I figured that I had better give up thinking about it so I could finish the paper.
Soon that lounge was closed down, and I moved into another that is usually open fairly late. I turned in a few more papers (via email), and security showed up to kick me out. I sleepily got up, and put on my backpack realizing with a growl, that again, I was coatless. He locked the doors, and I headed out my usual way to get to my car.
I realized too late that I had parked on the OUTSIDE of the "U" created by the very connected buildings. When I heard the door clunk shut, I knew that it was locked, and I wouldn't be able to get back through. My only exit was to the INSIDE of the U-shape, and it would be a rather long walk around.
It was -18 degrees, and with the windchill, it was the equivelent -50.
I clenched my jaw, pulled my hat down a little farther over my hears, and put on my gloves (hidden in my backpack). I decided that running would be the best idea. The quicker I made it around the buildings, the less cold I'd be.
I dashed out the door without a second thought and was promptly greeted by a cold blast of wind that knocked the breath out of me. I had made it 15 steps when the horrible thought occurred to me "what if my car doesn't start?"
I turned around and started running for the door that was closing behind me. It shut, and I slammed into it just a second too late to keep it from latching. It was locked too. "Stupid stupid stupid stupid!!!!"
I turned around again, and made my dash for the end of the line of buildings, realizing that if I messed up, I would freeze to death in a very very short time.
The wind and cold sliced through my thick hoodie and three under layers like they were nothing. and I was already shivering by the time I made it even a 1/4 of the distance down to the end of the row. Once I made it to the end, I knew I had to make it all the way back on the even windier outside.
It sucked. It felt like an hour, even though it was probably less that 4 or 5 minutes worth of running.
When I got to my car...my hands, even in my gloves were shaking so badly that I could barely work the key into the lock, let alone push the sissybuttons.
I was more than a little relieved when it started without trouble...I nearly got out and hugged it. Driving home, I realized that I had just learned a little lesson in life.
No matter how bad things look...they'll get worse. If you can step back and laugh, life will go a lot more smoothly for you.
Today started out about four days ago with finals, and my frantic daily checks of my bank account to see if I could scrape by with another trip to the Sandbox in Wisconsin.
(NO copilot this time!!!!)
I began finishing projects, and staying on campus well past midnight, only to scramble home and spend the rest of the night writing papers.
Friday came about, and a few friends from school kindly decided that they were going to take me out for icecream. Somehow...they didn't get the picture that I had a cabanaboy already, and unbenownst to me, I was being set up on a blind date.
So there I was...sitting with some poor guy I had never seen before in my life. He was somewhat pretty, but neither of us knew what was going on, and our friends nowhere to be seen nor were they answering phones. The end result is that we had a nice little 2.5 hour chat over empty bowls of icecream while we waited for them to come back. I may have been distracted slightly at times, as I was plotting some rather bloody murders.
That little shenanigan took dang near 6 hours of valuable study time away from me, and set me back on the roads quite late. I got home, and was instantly called by three people trying to make sure I had enough food to last a weekend, as I was apparantly about to be snowed in.
I was in no mood to be pushed around by a petty shower of snowflakes.
"I'm racing."
My bank account, however, said "No you're not."
I used the depressing mood to get some more papers done...and spent all but two hours doing so. I had only had about 6 hours of sleep during the past two nights, but I decided to push through and keep working anyways.
I later received an email from a professor that I had dedicated an entire paragraph to some place called the "Sandbox" and in my "Women of World Literature" rough draft.
Oops.
I decided that it was a sign that I needed to race. I am invincible, y'know, and don't need sleep!
At that point, I forgot what day it was, but kept working on my papers and projects. Somewhere in there I managed another two hours of unintentional napping. When I woke up, I was shivering under all of my 25 blankets (okay...there's only 8).
Something was obviously up, because it sounded like a train was trying to batter itself though the walls of my apartment. The cold was certainly coming in like there were no walls at all. Sure enough, the heat wasn't working.
I ventured out of the blanket pile just long enough to plug a little space heater in the wall, and set it on "turbo." With the howling wind, my curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked out my window to see that it was snowing avalanche sized snowflakes, and the wind was blowing so hard that I could hardly see across the tiny parking lot.
"Drat."
I leaned against the door to push it open so I could see what was going on...but to no avail. 5.5 inches was all it gave, and there was not a thing I could do to force it open any further.
"Snowed in. Literally. Double drat."
I hid back under the covers, and polished off another paper. Checking to be sure that there were no passages about lusting after Service Honda Bikes, then sent it off to my instructor.
I decided to finally crawl out of my blankets and have some hot soup, only to discover that I don't actually own a can opener!!!
It sat and mocked me for the the next few minutes of the day, until I got fed up and picked up the one thing that would *surely* take care of everything. My trusty beat up machete.
I carefully posed my unsuspecting victim on the sink, where it wouldn't make a huge mess if it split open a little too far, then stepped back and raised my "can opener" above my head poised in the attack stance drilled into my head through a year's worth of sword classes.
Pause. Center weight on the rear foot. Steady and balance for strike. Inhal---
"holy Amazon BATMAN!!! WTH AM I DOING!?!?!"
At this moment, I had caught the sight of myself out of the corner of my eye in the full length mirror, poised to kill. There are no words for disturbingly funny it was.
I set my weapon down...and decided to have ramen noodles instead.
Monday came quickly, and I found that my door was even more jammed shut. However there was a cute little 1 foot snowdrift inside the entry of my apartment. "Drat snow and all its evilness."
I stuffed on all my warm clothes and went to see if the car would start in the -18 degrees, and shovel some of the snow away from my doors. The flying alero was completely covered and buried in a drift, so I dug my way inside and started praying that it'd start. It was just far enough away, that all my extension cords hooked together fell short by about 5 feet from the block heater.
It started.
I found that my left hand has very little grip strength (another appointment on wednesday to get that checked out) while trying to shovel...and ended up pushing the silly thing around like a goon until I had sortof cleared a path.
Being as my jacket had been permanently borrowed last year, I stopped at walmart and picked up an el-cheapo that would suffice with all the other layers I had on, and finally made it to campus.
I typed away like a banshee and handed in another paper before going to lunch with the dad. On my way back, I landed a parking spot away from where I usually enter the building, but being as it was close to the door, I took it.
I unbundled, once inside, and hung my jacket on a chair where it was in good view so I could keep an eye on it. I stepped in for a quick discussion with my old boss, and then went back to my frantic writing. Something wasn't quite right, but I figured that I had better give up thinking about it so I could finish the paper.
Soon that lounge was closed down, and I moved into another that is usually open fairly late. I turned in a few more papers (via email), and security showed up to kick me out. I sleepily got up, and put on my backpack realizing with a growl, that again, I was coatless. He locked the doors, and I headed out my usual way to get to my car.
I realized too late that I had parked on the OUTSIDE of the "U" created by the very connected buildings. When I heard the door clunk shut, I knew that it was locked, and I wouldn't be able to get back through. My only exit was to the INSIDE of the U-shape, and it would be a rather long walk around.
It was -18 degrees, and with the windchill, it was the equivelent -50.
I clenched my jaw, pulled my hat down a little farther over my hears, and put on my gloves (hidden in my backpack). I decided that running would be the best idea. The quicker I made it around the buildings, the less cold I'd be.
I dashed out the door without a second thought and was promptly greeted by a cold blast of wind that knocked the breath out of me. I had made it 15 steps when the horrible thought occurred to me "what if my car doesn't start?"
I turned around and started running for the door that was closing behind me. It shut, and I slammed into it just a second too late to keep it from latching. It was locked too. "Stupid stupid stupid stupid!!!!"
I turned around again, and made my dash for the end of the line of buildings, realizing that if I messed up, I would freeze to death in a very very short time.
The wind and cold sliced through my thick hoodie and three under layers like they were nothing. and I was already shivering by the time I made it even a 1/4 of the distance down to the end of the row. Once I made it to the end, I knew I had to make it all the way back on the even windier outside.
It sucked. It felt like an hour, even though it was probably less that 4 or 5 minutes worth of running.
When I got to my car...my hands, even in my gloves were shaking so badly that I could barely work the key into the lock, let alone push the sissybuttons.
I was more than a little relieved when it started without trouble...I nearly got out and hugged it. Driving home, I realized that I had just learned a little lesson in life.
No matter how bad things look...they'll get worse. If you can step back and laugh, life will go a lot more smoothly for you.
