Thursday, April 12, 2012

I Had a Bad Day, Again

*Warning: This post is in no way positive or encouraging.  It is a rant about life.  It is filled with bitterness.

I have been in a MAJOR funk lately.  A friend used the word "grump", but the words bitter, angry, frustrated, and out of control would work, too. 

Lady luck has not been on my side, and my all day, every day pity parties have me feeling very unlike myself.  I'm trying to focus on the positive.  I keep telling myself how fortunate I am to have my health, a stable job that pays my bills, and a family that loves and supports me.  But then I feel like a selfish beast for being such a brat, and I hate myself even more.  Talk about a vicious cycle.

So here goes my vent about my awful day yesterday.  I would call it the worst day ever, but all in all, in the big picture of my life, nothing that happened yesterday matters.

I woke up with a Quasimodo eye.  My right eye was swollen beyond recognition because of my allergies, I assume, despite the fact that I took an antihistamine before bed.

Then, mom and I drove all the way to Houston to check out some cars I found online with hopes of replacing my totaled Jeep.  First stop, they sold the car I wanted to look at less than an hour before I arrived at 9:30 AM. 

At the second stop, my luck was looking up.  They had a car almost identical to my old Jeep at a fair price.  I decided to buy it, with the stipulation that they replace one tire to match the 3 other brand new tires.  The salesman, whose name was Ron and I dubbed Ron Burgandy (He was equally as pretentious and douchey as Ron Burgandy), agreed to my negotiation. We got inside and he tacked on $750 in "dealership fees", which he admitted went straight into the dealerships pocket.  I was furious and got up to walk out.  He agreed to talk to his manager to "see what he could do" and he knocked $250 off the price.  He told his boss I was a single mother, to get me some sympathy.  This put an awful taste in my mouth.  First of all, if I was a single mother, I wouldn't want his or anyone else's sympathy.  Secondly, it was a flat out lie.  I was so tired and didn't want to do this all over again, so I told him to clean up the car and put the new tire on while we went to lunch.  We went to Subway and I had a disgusting salad with rubbery chicken and tasteless tomatoes.

We returned to the dealership to be to be told they do not accept out of state checks, and we needed a cashiers' check from the bank.  So after telling us about how he spends 3 hours a day in the gym and his sons are IronMen triathletes and other sundries about his life that I didn't give a shit about, Ron Burgandy sent us on a wild goose chase to find the most hidden branch of Capital One in all of Texas.  After passing by it approximately 27 times, we finally find it.  Might I mention that we passed a plethora of great looking restaurants, including a Whole Foods, when just an hour earlier all we could find was a jankey Subway?!? 

We get out and a woman yells at us from her car not to bother because they are closed.  Sure enough, computer systems are down and they are closed until they can get them back up.  It may be a few minutes, but it also may not happen today.  Then, a gaggle of Muscovy ducks cross our path. I take this as a bad omen, because Muscovy are trash birds to eat and I'm in an awful mood. But miraculously, about 15 minutes later, they open the doors and we get the cashiers check.  Maybe from now on I'll see Muscovy as a sign of good luck.

We return to the dealership.  I see the car all cleaned up and have immediate feelings of regret. Nothing about this process has been done on my terms.  We find Ron Burgandy, I sign the appropriate paperwork, I call my insurance, and then he drops the bomb that pushed me over the edge.  They have not replaced the tire.  They don't have a tire shop on site.  I firmly told him I am not leaving without a new tire that matches the others, and that he better get a roll on because I don't want to be in Houston traffic.  He proceeds to try to convince me traffic won't be bad.  Bucko, I lived here for 2 years, don't tell me traffic won't be bad.  You can bullshit me about cars all day and I'll listen, but don't think you know better than me about rush hour in Houston, TX.

So he tells me to go to the tire shop where they have an account and charge the tire.  Um no.  You already sent my an a hour and a half adventure to find a bank.  Oh, and they don't even have a tire to match.  So he wants me to get a "similar" tire. Not an option.

My other option is to pay for the car, go to Sears either in Houston or at home, buy a tire to match, and he will reimburse me.  Also, not an option. I've already wasted an entire day and taken time for work, I'm not spending another 2 hours of my life putting a new tire on a new (to me) car, when 4 hours ago you promised me you would take care of it. And after you have my money, I have serious doubts I'll ever hear from you again.

So I walked out of the dealership.  I heard him yell "the key?"  It was already on my keyring.  I handed it to him, and he said, "You don't have to get all upset over a tire.  It's just a tire.  It's not a big deal."  Maybe it's not a big deal to him, but he promised me he would take care of it.  I refuse to do business with dishonest people. I added, "Oh right.  I'm all upset because I'm a single woman and can't control my emotions, right?!?"

To add insult to injury, I missed both the 4:30 and 5:30 CrossFit classes on the day I needed to lift heavy weights and blow off steam the most.  I planned on a run to release some of my rage, but ended up eating a turkey and Gouda sandwich, Cheetos, taco soup, and a cupcake plus the icing off another when I got to my parents.  I didn't taste a single thing I put in my mouth.  Anger must do something to my taste buds.

I felt disgusting and slovenly when I got home. Running wasn't an option on my full belly, but I leashed up Lola and took her for a walk.  There was a train running along the sidewalk by my house.  I looked at my arms and realized ash or something from the train must have spewed.  I was covered in spots of black that didn't come off with rubbing.  

When I arrived home and looked in the mirror, my face was smudged with black all over.  I didn't even think it could have landed on my face because I was wearing a hat and over sized sunglasses.  Ugh. It was a gorgeous evening and I passed about 10,000 people while walking.  How embarrassing?!?!

Oh, and my cell phone was nowhere to be found.  I must have left it at my parents' house, which is 30 minutes away.  Sure enough, when I check my e-mail, I had a messages in my inbox from mom and sister saying my cell was there and my sister would bring it by before work.

2 Benadryl and a dream I had a baby later (it must have been all that single mother talk), I woke up to the doorbell ringing.  My sister with my phone.  There was a message from one of my oldest friends letting me know her grandfather passed away.  Here comes that selfish beast feeling again.

Please keep my friend in your prayers.  Her family is very close knit, and I know they are devastated.

How do you get out of a very deep funk?


  1. Um, yea ... that was a bad day. Sorry, friend!! And your friend's family is in my prayers.

    It is SO hard to get out of a funk. I try to breathe deeply and think of the good things in my life. Sometimes I have to do this for days, but eventually it works.

    Funks suck :(

  2. Ugh. Yes. Bad day. Funks are really hard. I am in quite a funk myself. But remember that life would actually suck without the funks because you wouldn't really know when you were happy. The ups and downs are important. You will have a great day again and be so thankful because you will compare it to the crap. My recent discovery during this low time I am working through is that there are SO many people who care about me.