I have a history of exhibiting particularly awesome tendencies.
Like when I fried a layer of dust and cat hair into my pork chop. Or when I impaled my ribs on my vacuum - that wasn't even in use at the time. Or, when I sat uncomfortably for two days, only later realizing that I'd been wearing my new underwear backwards.
There are several examples. You can read about them here. (You know, should you want to feel much better about yourself.)
In short, I'm an effing GENIUS.
And I proved it again today.
I drove to work this morning. I usually take the bus (although not lately, given the whole can't-get-out-of-bed thing), but today I took the car and parked in a lot across from my building. I found a cozy little spot for my Civic and pulled in.
I always have a shit-ton of stuff to carry in. Like most women, I think. Purse, high heels, scarf, yoga mat, dry cleaning, briefcase, cell phone, food, gifts, book, wig, spare pantyhose, child(ren), etc. Ok, so I never carry children, and a rarely carry wigs, but I figure most women do.
So I reached over to the passenger seat and grabbed all my shit.
You know this process. Struggling to layer everything onto each of your arms, wrists and individual fingers, while grasping your keys, shaking your hair out of your face, and pushing your sunglasses up with the back of your hand.
Then shoving the car door open with your foot, while hoisting your junk over the gearshift, and between the steering wheel and your own twisted body.
Then slithering out of the car, trying desperately not to swing the door too far, which would inevitably result in your car's silver paint ending up scuffed on the side panel of the vehicle next to you. Which would result in you having to move your car (so as to avoid suspicion) and, of course, in having to start the whole damn process over again.
So that was me. Piling myself out of my car. I pushed the door closed with my ass and then swung around in the direction of the office.
And then it happened.
I was STUNNED. Boxed in the right ear, skull rattled and temple bruised.
What happened, you may be wondering?
Well, I MAY have inadvertently walked with full force into the giant side-mirror of the effing fifty-ton monster pickup truck parked next to me.
And when I whipped around to see what effing happened, and saw that damn mirror staring me in the face (right at eye level and bigger than my head), I may have boxed the self-righteous bastard right back.
My ear is sore.
And I hurt my finger.