As Alexander Suggested, "Maybe I'll Move to Australia"

Some days are not meant to be good ones. I am convinced of that. Some days are ones when you get up and I think fate, life, whoever, laughs at you secretly and thinks that you should just give in then and realize it will be a bad day, no matter how hard you try to make it a good one. I know that this sounds very cynical, but anyone has had a craptastic day recently knows exactly what I mean. I am talking about those days when you get up, thinking all is well, and then as the day goes on lots of little things start to go wrong, you get disappointed over and over again, and you get to a point when you just want to crawl back in bed and start the day over, hoping for a better outcome this time.

Yesterday just seemed to be one of those days. I got up and realized that I did not have to dress up for work, which is a welcome change occasionally, especially since my feet were killing me, thanks to the fabulous shoes I wore the day before. Then, the little things started to happen, I didn't like anything in my closet and felt like a fat lump as I was getting dressed. Upon looking in the mirror, I saw a new blemish on my chin. I burned myself with my flat iron and my hair would not do what I wanted it to do. I saw a grey hair. Oh god! Not the first one I have seen peaking out from my normally lovely brunette mane, but it was one of those days, you know. And a zit and a grey hair on the same day - are you kidding me??? Why??? Why me??? I pouted, plucked it, and moved on. Then my computer was not working right, probably just because nothing else was. I tripped over something on the floor, making me stub my toe and reminding me that I need to tidy up my apartment and making me feel like a slacker for not having done it the day before or the day before that. Then I realize it is May 1st and the rent is due. I can't find my checkbook, so I search until I find the one last book of checks I have, make it out and head down to the office. It is 9 AM. They open at 9 AM, so good timing, right? Wrong. I go to open the door to the office and find it locked. I see employees inside along with other residents, one of them motioning to me to go around the building to the other door. No way sir! It is almost 9:10 AM and if you open at 9 AM, I should be able to get in any of the doors without walking all the way around. Yes, I was being lazy and I could have gone around, but it was a matter of principle at this point. So I look in the windows, pull on the door a few more times and finally, when a Fed Ex delivery guy tries it, a rather bitchy woman comes to the door and opens it, apologizing in a, what I am assuming is status quo for her, patronizing way. I hand her my rent check and say I am just dropping it off. She tells me, again in a very patronizing way, that there is the night drop box and I am free to utilize it. I tell her no, I am not. She looks at me, rather taken aback by my comment, and I explain to her the problem I had the last time I used it, which I will not get into right now. She just glares at me like I am the scum she has to deal with every day and I turn and walk away, not even saying thank you or faking a smile. I don't think she deserved that much courtesy. Time now: 9:20 AM.

I rush to my car, remembering I am on E and need to stop for gas on my way to work, where I should have been at 9 AM mind you. Upon realizing that I have to walk to the other side of the complex for my car, since there are never any spots available when one comes home after 8 PM (I was pissed about this once again the night before when I came home from work around 10:30 PM), my level of happy is rapidly decreasing. I pull out of the parking lot and almost get smashed into by a pick-up truck that barreled through the red light on the corner. Of course, true to form for most people who run lights, he stared at me like it was my fault and I was the idiot; apparently I had no right to have entered what appeared to be an empty street after looking both ways. I drive to the gas station and when I get out of my car some jerk in a thumping pimped-out Cadillac flies into the station, almost taking out me and my car door. Of course, he gives me the same look as the guy who ran the red light, again, my fault apparently. I curse at him under my breath and proceed to pump my gas, which by the way, is one of the things I hate doing the most. I hate the smell of gasoline and it makes me feel ill! I decide that at this point in my day, 9:30 AM, I need caffeine, as it was obviously going to be one of those days. I head in and serve myself a very large fountain soda and pick up some mini cookies to ease my pain. The woman at the counter ignores me for at least 2 minutes, even though, aside from the guy stocking the beer, I am the only person in there. Finally she rings me up, acting like I am bothering her. Sorry ma'am, that is your job, just do it, if you hate it, it is not my problem; I had even tried to smile at her and did say thank you, wishing her a nice day. At this point, I figured someone should have one.

I head to work, 9:40 AM. At this point in the morning traffic has usually died down and the worst of the morning rush is over. Not the case today, of course. For some reason things are all backed up although I pass through no construction areas and see no accidents. This means people are just driving like idiots. Of course, today. As I near the parking garage, about half a block away, a cab pulls out of the Hyatt hotel circle drive, wanting to turn left and does not look. He is merely inches from plowing into me, me who has the right of way, driving straight towards a green light. I curse at him under my breath and throw my hands up so he can see them, then proceed to pull into the parking garage, where another idiot awaits me. A co-worker of mine was pulling in in front of me and she was not the problem; it was the dumbass in front of her. He could not swipe his entrance card correctly, then drove about 2 miles an hour up the ramp, stopping a checking out every single open space, before finally picking one. Of course, my co-worker and I, in our separate cars, are having to wait for him, watching the minutes tick by, hoping we make it into the office before the phones go on at 10 AM. Finally he parked and I floored it to the next level, parked and scurried to the elevator, meeting my co-worker there. We mutually bitch about the idiot in his Mercedes and head into the office.

The phone go on and it is crazy! Patrons calling and freaking out because they missed the deadline the day before to renew their season tickets. Since it is my job, I tell them that I am happy to help them do it over the phone right then, but in my mind I am thinking, well, you moron, you have had since February, and you could not get it in on time? Really? Come on! I help them, I answer questions, I get bitched at because people can't use the passes or coupons they have for a certain weekend of concerts coming up, we don't have seats available in the section they want, etc. They act like I am personally choosing to deny them seats, just because I can. Of course that's what I am doing... NO! One guy said, well your website shows seats in this area available. I look at my screen and see nothing in that row. I give him options near that row, but not good enough. He accuses me of just not wanting to sell those to him because they are a lower price. Again, of course, you caught me, I only sell the highest price seats to patrons, giving them no options... NO! Aside from the phone that did not stop ringing, I had a million projects for the other part of my job, my "real" job, to do. Spreadsheets, emails, judging kids' poetry, preparing/compiling info for a powerpoint presentation, arranging volunteers, lessons payroll, etc, etc, etc. Oh, and worrying, as are the other people in my department, about the 900 students that cancelled their field trip with us due to swine flu. No, no one has it, but their district thinks they could get it coming to a symphony concert with kids from other schools. We are all worried other districts will follow suit and our once sold out concerts will be attended just us, 2 staff members and 1 intern, watching a full symphony, educating us about composers and their inspiration and classical music. I am hoping at this point that people stop freaking out about the stupid swine flue and live! I mean, should we all stop going out in public because someone in another state got sick and died. Really? Paranoia at its best ladies and gentlemen!

The day pretty much goes on like that, with a chiropractor appointment in the middle, where I tell them I hurt and know that I will still hurt when I leave, due to the fact that they are moving things, working things in my body that are all out of whack. I keep telling myself that when it is all over, I will feel much better. I go back to work, continue working, stressing over the fact that my to-do list is multiplying when I am not looking, no matter how hard I work, and then I remember that my friend and I have plans to hang out that night. Thank god! Girl time is what I need, desperately! Then it happens, she bails. She tells me she has cramps, I know how that is, but she made it seem like she never really had the intention of hanging out in the first place She didn't have to tell her husband that there was a change in plans and that he did in fact need to pick her up from work, but rather the whole thing flowed like it does every other day, like she never really intended to hang out with me. I am beyond bummed, as I really needed that. So I work late, at least having company since my supervisor/friend is waiting for her husband and their date night. This makes me sad; I am hating everyone who has someone at that point, as the last thing I want to do is go home alone, all evening, alone, again. I figure I will stop into Ross, a shallow attempt to make myself feel better after my crappy day, but I walk in the door and turn around and walk right out. There are a million children running around in the aisles, not being watched by their parents. And, you think that since mom, dad, aunt, uncle, grandma, and probably the neighbors and their mailman are all there, together, someone could be watching the kids, or have used that thing many parents do, or did when I was little anyways, a babysitter! Get one! I leave, even more angry than before. I pick up junk food on my way home, thinking, who cares, get home, and then I remember, my cable is not working. It has not been working for a week and I am beyond angry about it. I have paid my bill, I have called, and no one will give me an answer. I am glad I have new tv on dvd to watch, thank god!

I talk to an online friend of mine, sharing stories about our days, plans for the evening, weekend, girly stuff, etc. I find myself jealous that she has a boyfriend who is out picking her up some frozen yogurt while she hangs out on the couch, playing online and watching a movie. I am jealous she is not alone that evening. I know this is wrong and I should not feel that way, but I did and I do sometimes. It is awful to go home to an empty apartment after a bad day, having no one to vent or whine to, no one to give you a hug and say, sorry you had a bad day. I guess I did have someone, a tiny spider crawled across my arm and I about lost it! I hate spiders and was so freaked out. I smashed him with the dvd case and then felt itchy all night, even though I never saw another one and that was the first one I have seen in my apartment, ever. Needless to say, I went to bed, I went to bed hoping that when I awoke in the morning, I could start over and that that day never happened. I slept 12 hours. I needed it, my brain and body needed it. Today is another day, a new day, and despite the fact that I have to work tonight, nothing has gone wrong yet.

I realize that there are people out there, even people I know, with real, serious problems in life and that real tragedy strikes every day. I am not at all trying to compare my bad day with those of people dealing with disease, death, losing jobs, homes, etc, etc, etc. I am just saying that there are days when nothing seems to go right, when it really might be better to crawl back under the covers and then get up and start again. Or perhaps, as Alexander, who had that "Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day," suggested, "maybe I'll move to Australia...."