Not My Kind of Day, but Still Funny to a Pessimist

SOMEWHERE INBETWEEN COMPUTER ISSUES AND GETTING ATTACKED BY DOGS, I DECIDED THAT TODAY WOULD SUCK A LOT LESS if I just lived it in reverse. Not that I have any regrets. Quite the opposite really, as I’ve done the required things plus some. No. The problem, it seems, is this streak of bad luck that has been following me like toilet paper stuck to the bottom of a shoe, and I can’t seem to shake it.

Since I swore from the very first post that I wouldn’t use this blog to rant about my issues I’ve found a way to circumvent that and still let you know what has been going on. It’s funny, in a desperate maniacal type of way.

Anyone heard that Rascal Fags Flatts song “Backwards”? The one part that goes:

” . . .you wanna know what you get
When you play a country song backwards

You get your house back
You get your dog back
You get your best friend Jackson back
You get your truck back
You get your hair back
Ya get your first and second wives back
Your front porch swing
Your pretty little thing
Your bling bling bling and a diamond ring”

Well this is my version of it – AubreyMo style. So what do you get when you play my day backwards?

I’d get my car back,
my cash back,
my first and second oil filter back.
I’d get my lunch break,
not have a car shake
and finally my head don’t ache.
I’d turn off the cold air,
be comfy in my chair
and probably tie up my hair.
The zoo wouldn’t double charge me,
the bank wouldn’t have robbed me,
and my credit card might not have barged me.
I’d take a long nap,
Find out I can’t rap,
and then just quit this crap”

You think it’s funny, don’t you? Don’t you? Wait. Don’t answer that.

Okay, I will tell you something that truly is funny. My car has been having issues (don’t laugh yet. This is not funny). It started having seizures on the way to work today. The engine started doing it’s own version of the shimmy-shimmy-shake, all the while making this beautiful knocking noise, while the idle goes up and down and makes me wonder if it was going to die. At first this didn’t seem to be a bad thing, it’s like a redneck’s definition of a free massage when your car vibrates your arms, legs, butt and back on the drive home. Dale replaced my fuel filter, but we decided to drop it off overnight at my auto shop just in case. He followed me up in his truck and waited while I went to go drop off the key.

These two things are very important for what I am going to tell you next.

It was pitch black.

His truck is loud.

Remember where I said “attacked by dogs”? I wasn’t just being sarcastic. I stepped away from his truck, and all the sudden there was a blur of blue and white fur, nipping at my heels and snarling. I screamed like a proper damsel in distress, swatted at my legs and tripped over my own two feet. Get back in the truck, Aub, get back in the truck! I fought my spaghetti legs, my knees knocking together as I tried to scramble over and grab the latch.

Mr. Snarls wasn’t having that. He stood by the door. Crap.

I run around to try and get in Dale’s side of the truck. This is when dog number two enters the fray, a big white beady eyed monstrosity that had it’s lips curled back. I’m like a deer in headlights, literally and figuratively. There is a dog on both sides and I am stuck. I’ve already proven that I can hardly walk away without tripping, let alone run. I’m screwed.

But wait! What is that silvery thing on the front of Dale’s truck? A bumper guard? Is it for a winch? Before I even finish that thought, my most primal instinct kicks in to move very, very far away from that awful noise coming from their throats, and I jumped, feet, hands and torso all wrapped around this savior of metal and silver coating.

“The dogs are going to get me! THEY’RE GOING TO EAT ME ALIVE!!!” I scream. For the first time, I rip my eyes away from the beasts and glance at Dale. Is he. . .?No. He couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be. . .

HE IS.

He is laughing at me, and I’m stuck here with my tush exposed for Cujo and the Dog From Hell.

I guess the dogs felt satisfied for scaring me off, because after a minute they left and I was finally able to pry myself off of the front end of the truck. Dale told me later that was the funniest thing he’d seen all day, and that he had been wondering if he was going to have to change my diaper.

And I’m still shaking.