If you ever played games as a kid, you remember the moment in some random game where everything started going to hell. Your friends were getting angry, no one was happy with the results of the last match/round/turn/whatever. And the smartest of your friends called out "Do over!" It's the universal agreement among kids that the most fair way to rectify the tragedy that just unfolded is to forget about it and try again.
I desperately wanted a "do over" on my entire day yesterday, because it went like this....
6:00 AM - My alarm goes off, and I realize I passed out after dinner last night and never blogged, painted my nails, or read any of the book I brought with me.
6:30 AM - Guess I'd better really get up now...I have meet my co-workers (including by boss) downstairs in one hour
6:35 AM - (Looking in mirror) Shit, this hair is not gonna work today. Gotta wash it after all.
6:45 AM - Hotel hair dryer inadvently sucks a piece of my hair into the intake, rips it out of my head, and the dryer motor shoots sparks and smells like it's going to overheat. My hair is less than half way dry.
7:00 AM - Shit, not enough hair spray in the world is gonna fix this...where is my headband?
7:30 AM - Meet co-workers and make polite conversation on way to Starbucks, trying not to think to much about my Standard Poodle hairdo
11:30 AM - 3 1/2 hours in meeting, we all realize we aren't close to done. Instead of heading to the airport as scheduled, we all change flights to go home later. My flight went from 2:20 PM to 7:40 PM.
1:00 PM - I'm starving, but we can't go to lunch until one of our project team members is off a conference call for a different project.
1:30 PM - Start working lunch (I hate these)
3:30 PM - Entertaining thoughts about strangling someone right now...bad career move, but tempting nonetheless
5:00 PM - My brain is dead, and our project still isn't done. We pack up anyway and head to the airport.
5:30 PM - Kings game is starting. I am returning the rental car. Since I have no chance of finding a TV to see the game, Bri is texting me updates.
8:40 PM - arrive Burbank Airport with exactly 1 hour to get across town to Caribou hockey game.
9:00 PM - WHERE IN GODS NAME IS THE LOT D SHUTTLE!!
9:10 PM - My tire pressure gauge is on...why, I have no idea, because the tires all look fine.
9:15 PM - FRAK!!! WHERE IS THE DAMNED PARKING TICKET!
9:20 PM - Stop at gas station and spend last dollar (in quarters) to put more air in all 4 tires. Pressure gauge is still on. WHY ME?
9:22 PM - DAMMIT! When did they close the freeway exit I need to use!!!!
9:25 PM - Dodging between every non-driving idiot on 5 and 110 Freeways southbound, racing to get to game on time.
10:00 PM - Arrive at game with 4 minutes left in first period. Rachel, Jen and Bri have Doritos and Fritos. I love my friends.
11:30 PM - Game is over, Caribou win, Mikey scores a goal. We proceed to spend the next 30 minutes yakking about former Kings players that suck (the names Modry, Gauthier, Dallman and Calder come up)
12:00 AM - Finally leave to go home
12:30 AM - Fall into bed and pass out immediately
Who's calling it? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller??
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