I'm not one to sit around and do nothing. Catching you back up--see "Why Staying Busy Keeps Emily From Getting Wasted All The Time."
So I was saying, I am not one to sit around. Today I got up and realized there was no hope for my Kindle. Yesterday it was acting up and not wanting to charge. The cord was not fitting into the port tight enough to pick up a charge (insert dirty joke here). I jerry rigged it in a manner that I thought would make it happen so it would charge overnight and I could finish Escaping Destiny by Amelia Hutchins. I had planned on reading all morning, as I am super on top of my moving tasks. No such luck. Woke up and fucker was at 15%. Grrrr.
Next, I went to Best Buy with my precious baby rapped in a towel, attempting to find a new cord. I asked a guy for help, we plugged the new cord into an outlet... and nothing. So I asked ole boy what to do. He said, "I don't know." OK.... I asked him if he thought it was the cord or the port. "I don't know." One more time. I asked what I should do with my baby. (I didn't call it that. I'm not THAT weird.) It doesn't matter. The mother fucker just kept shrugging his shoulders and letting me know he didn't have a clue.
The following sentences passed though my head. Thankfully I was sober and said nary a one.
"What do you know?"
"How did you get this job?"
"Do you work off commission? Because if so, you must be broke."
"Is this how you normally are, or did I catch you on an off kilter day?"
"Are you new?"
"Where's your fucking manager?"
"I'm a writer damnit! I NEED my kindle."
"Did you hear me? I'M A WRITER!!!"
"What did you say you name was? OK." (walk to manager.)
His ass was saved by a woman. Of course. A very intelligent woman helped me out. We tried a few plugs and decided it was indeed the port. She said I could send it to Amazon, but the cost to fix it would be at least half of the cost to just buy a new one. If I had my warranty. And I don't. She showed me a new Kindle for a good price, and it was lighter than my super heavy stone age one. (I loved my baby, though. She did right by me...)
Anyhoo, I have a brand new kindle with HD. Whoo hoo. (HD really isn't a big deal when you read on it. I'm not watching Yo MTV Raps or anything with it.)
Moving along, I met my mentor at a bar and we got a lil drunk. Then I came home and contemplated writing a drunk blog. I did not.
Oh, I almost forgot. The handyman came by to fix some stuff at my apartment. The toilet is fucked up and the lovely lady at the apartment complex told me to get all the broke shit fixed while I was still a tenant and it was free. So he fixed the toilet and left. Before I headed out to meet my mentor, I took a shit. While doing so, I saw the trash can I have sitting in the bathtub next to the toilet. I keep it on top of the tank cuz the dog eats used pads. (If this isn't TMI already, keep going cuz it's about to get good.)
I was cleaning out some drawers in my nightstand, as I am giving away all my furniture. Only what will fit in my car is going to Mexico. I see in the trashcan, the one in the bathtub, the 100 pack of condoms I took from Planned Parenthood when I stopped working there in 2008. There were a lot of unused, expired condoms that you couldn't see at the bottom of the trash can. No, all you could see was the box flipped over with PLANNED PARENTHOOD: QUANTITY 100 on the side. Handyman probably thought I was gettin' hella laid.
So. Not. Accurate.
To recap: broken Kindle, nap, handyman, condoms, sucky dude at Best Buy, female who made her commission, new light weight Kindle, drunk, and now sober enough to type this blog.
And that was my day.
Emily
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