My Mumbling Thoughts

Yesterday I kind of hit this girl's car in the parking lot at Five Guys.

Brushed it, really. Scratched it slightly. Nothing major. You can't even tell on my car that there was any damage.

This girl (who just so happened to be sitting in her car while I scraped it) LOST HER SHIT.

"What do you think you're doing?!" she screamed at me.

"Um, nothing." I cooly replied.

"You just hit my car!" she yelped.

"Oh did I? My bad." I really didn't see the big deal. I hit, scratch and bump my car all the time. It never really occured to me that other people might not like it when that happens to their cars. Ah, well.

I was riding with a fellow co-worker of mine, Erik, who is the big brother that I never wanted. He's so adorably funny and we're always inventing new ways to waste time at work since our jobs are pretty lame and there's really nothing else to do.

All three of us hopped out of our vehicles and stood around. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I've never had to deal with other people whenever I hit things. I normally just brush it off my back and continue on with life. I remembered seeing people on TV and in the movies always swap insurance information though, so I figured that's what we should do.

Unfortunately for me, I didn't have my insurance card on me. I didn't need it while I was in London, so I took it out of my wallet and forgot about it. I also didn't have a cell phone number to give her since I had dropped mine in a puddle of water, also while I was in London and never got it replaced with an American phone. I did, however, still have my UK phone and thought about giving her that number just to be mean. I decided against it.

It took about fifteen minutes, but I eventually left the psycho girl in the parking lot with all of my information that I could think of to give her. She was on her cell phone the entire time calling up everyone she knew.

"Yeah, so I'm going to be late. This girl totally just hit my car. I know. I know. No, I don't know what to do."

I just kind of stood around in the heat, melting while I tried to figure out why she was so freaked. It was a minor scratch. Hell, I could have spit on her car and rubbed it off with no problems. Easy as cake. She just kept on going on and on as if I had smashed into her and would leave her in a foam neck brace for the next three months. A complete drama queen.

Erik went inside halfway through the mini crisis and ordered my food for me since being outside was way too hot for him. It was too hot for me too and I was wearing black trousers and boots up to my knees. I wasn't sure why. I just felt like wearing pointy boots that day.

Eventually, once I had made it back to the office and explained to Momma what had happened, I decided to call it a day. Life at this particular moment in time was way too hard for me to deal with and all I wanted to do was go home.

So I did. And I ate two hotdogs and watched dvds for the rest of the night. It was just what I needed in order to put the stupid situation behind me.

These past few weeks have been quite busy and difficult for me. I've been trying to sort my loan, working, writing some non-blog related things, preparing for Jon and Helen's arrival, working, searching for scholarships, cleaning, working, trying to learn all of this new crap at work that I don't understand and never want to understand and of course, continuing to work. All while slowly turning into human jerky because the heat doesn't seem to want to go away.

Today is supposed to be one of the hottest days of the year. According to the weather man, the heat index is supposed to be around 110. Nice. I came into work wearing one of my small summer dresses and still feel like I'm being suffocated by the humidity. It clings to my legs and makes my hair all frizzy. I just want to go back home and snooze under my covers until tomorrow when hopefully it's a bit cooler.

I've got about two weeks left of work and then I'll be completely finished. I can't say that I'll be sad to leave. This job that they've stuck me on is so pointless in my eyes and I can't come up with any good reasons as to why I should even continue. Aside from the fact that I still could do with a paycheck until it's time for me to go. But I've found myself in the same exact place where I was all those months ago when I felt like I was in a rut and couldn't find an escape route. I sink into almost a hypnotic state and aimlessly roam up and down the hallways and find people to distract from their jobs that they actually do.

I suppose I could just continue on with Erik and chat shit about his graffiti on facebook, or come up with new ways to waste time. Like the one time when I saw I had a voicemail on my red phone. I hate getting voicemail on my red phone. It worries me because that means that I've got to deal with people and generally call them back. Instead, the voicemail was from Erik and all he said was, "haha. You just wasted time checking voicemail."

Back to the daily grind.