Why do I even try to be clean on the way to therapy? Why shower, put on clean, unwrinkled clothes, smell good, comb my hair, etc when I know full well I’m going to spill something? At this point I’m just ruining clothes. I again got attacked by my cup of coffee. It started off bad. I poured a cup of coffee and a fly got in it. Had it been a small fly I may have been able to dissociate the thought away, pretend that I didn’t pull a fruit fly out of a perfect cup of coffee but nope, this was a juicy one. When I pulled him out it was as if he had just gorged on something. I could not excuse that. I had to pour the very last of the coffee into my cup then run out to meet Cabby Negative. I did just that but not without consequences. See, I should have stopped and just let the coffee go but nope, I had to pour another cup. Inside the cab while he swerved and cursed I ended up spilling it. I asked if he had any napkins. The man actually tried to hand me a “white” washrag that he’d clearly used for unsanitary purposes. I know that thing had about 5 different diseases on it. I said, “Nah, that’s okay.” He said, “What’s wrong with the rag?” What’s wrong with the rag? I thought to myself…well, as you took your hand with the dirty long fingernails and brought that rag towards me I noticed the dirty sweat marks on it as well as hairs caught in the fibers of the rag…that’s what’s wrong with it. He offered me another rag. Again I turned it down.
As we drove down the street and the coffee began to soak into my underclothes I realized napkins would be needed for this, lots of them. I asked if we could stop someplace. We could have stopped at McDonald’s or Starbucks or a gas station but noooooo. Why on earth did he choose to stop in the worst neighborhood in Indianapolis? I mean come on. I opened the door to this dive, walked in, the lights were low. I thought to myself, I’m about to be robbed by a waitress on work release. When I went in the people just looked at me like I was a foreigner. I asked for napkins several times. They didn’t care. I left with about 5 napkins, my wallet and my life. I was grateful. Had I been wearing the cursed bra it would have been worse.
Cabby Negative said, “You know when Obama visits here he eats at that restaurant.” Well, see he has armed guards with him. I had a wet pair of pants, excuse me if I didn’t feel safe. I then thought to myself, you’re gonna pay for this. You don’t know it but you’re gonna pay for this. I’m soooo going do dog you on my blog.
When I go back to therapy tomorrow I will show up dirty. I will not shower. I will not put on a clean shirt. I will NOT pull my hair back in a pony tail nor will I brush my teeth. Why do those things just to walk around with a huge spill. I might even show up in my PJ’s. All that effort just to get jacked up….This isn’t worth it.
Coffee Attack-Tuesday, July 22, 2008-4:32PM
What a funny post! Now it I realize these things weren’t funny when you were living them, but it’s funny to read about.
I say you go to therapy tomorrow in pjs, slippers, and something big and green wedged between your two front teeth.
I say you just use an eyebrow pencil to paint an eye on your forehead!
Welcome to my world. I could blame it on a toddler with sticky fingers, a huge stomach that likes to catch every spill and crumb and the fact that I can’t see below my belly to discover the stains there — but really I’ve always been a clutz.