Mondays

I've never been a fan of blaming the day of the week.

Dear Monday, it's okay.  It's not your fault.

I mean, it IS your fault that it's the first day of the week, and I have the rest of the week left before I get a break, but the rest isn't your fault.

No.

It's mine.

It's my fault that when I got home last night, driving through 3 inches of snow in the freezing cold with a stuffed up head and a horrible cough, when I found that my parking lot was full, as was the street in front of my house, I parked off to the side of the driveway.

Which, despite the fact that I've seen people park there before, is apparently not a parking spot.

But really.  It was either walk a quarter mile in the snow with a miserable cold at 11:30 PM, or stick my car there.

So, this morning, I got up, feeling quite a bit better.  I think the worst of the cold passed yesterday.  Still a little sniffly, still coughing a bit, but the deep-chest coughing is done, and the headache is gone. 

I skipped outside to head to work.

And my car was gone.

That's right.  No car.  I had my hopes up for alien abduction of the vehicle, or possibly an evil wizard I would have to battle, but the impound place dashed those hopes.  Turns out THEY had my car.

So, I called Carl.  He came and got me, then gave me his car to get to work and run errands.  At lunch break I took one of the girls I work with to the impound place, and we recovered my car.

I wasn't going to argue with the place - I've seen how fruitless that can be - but Ksenia (girl who came with me) tried it anyway, saying the parking lot and street were full, etc.  They guy basically recited the user manual, which I'm sure is because he gets people arguing a lot.  So, I paid the **choke** $175 after fees and stuff, signed the form, wrote "bite me," next to my signature, and went to get the car.

Ksenia drove my car back, and I drove Carl's.

And then I rolled down the window.

I was trying to talk to Ksenia for directions, so I rolled the window most of the way down... and then tried to roll it back up.

No such luck.

Apparently rolling it that far down knocks it off its track.

So, yeah.  I got my car back, but I broke Carl's.

And no, Monday, that's not your fault either.  It's okay.

Dear Tuesday, got anything better for me?