Dude, Where's My Car?

Yesterday morning I overslept and was running late to work--finally setting foot outside my apartment at around 7:40 am (which means no hope of getting there by 8:00 since the job is way out in the 'burbs). So I make it to the street and it's cold, pouring rain, and barely light outside (ugh). As I'm shivering on the sidewalk, holding my dry cleaning over my head (forgot my umbrella, natch), I look up and down the street and realize that I have no idea where I parked my car the night before. And it's not like I'd been drinking, I was stone cold sober when I drove home from my writer's group Tuesday night. I just don't remember actually parking the car.

A few words of explanation: my neighboorhood is fairly trendy and there are quite a few coffee shops, bars, restaurants, and other establishments in the immediate area that are open late into the evening. So basically, trying to find a parking space anywhere within a four-block radius of my building after 7pm is damn near impossible. Therefore, I never get to park in the same place twice, and I'm used to vulturing for parking spaces and hiking the few blocks back to my apartment if I come home at night. I guess I've grown so used to this that I didn't even happen to notice where I'd parked when I got home the night before.

So, I took a guess and headed down the next block to see if I could find my car. I walked about half a block, squinted down the next street, and saw...

Nada.

I stood forlornly in the middle of the street and contemplated my situation. My hose and high heels were completely soaked from the rain, 8:00 was nigh and there was no car in sight. That's when I made an executive decision.

I wouldn't make it to work that day.

Turning on my heel, I quickly splashed through the puddles back to my building. I unlocked my door, threw down my stuff, and peeled off my wet clothes. Settling down between the sheets, I placed a call to the temp agency, and in my best sick voice rolled out the old "food poisoning" standby. I hung up the phone, pulled the covers over my head, and was asleep again within minutes.

It was a good day.

I'm at work right now, and 5:00 can't come fast enough. In an effort to speed up the time and combat my rapidly encroaching boredom, I thought a list would be apropo....

Things I'd Rather Be Doing (in no particular order)...

• Riding my bike down Summit Ave.
• Finishing the earrings I started last week
• Making a purse with colored duct tape
• Sitting in the sun
• Eating Pad Thai noodles from that place on Selby
• Watching Sesame Street with my nephew
• Working on my book
• Drafting query letters
• Writing the article that's due on the 30th
• Shopping at Dabble
• Reading Another Bullshit Night In Suck City, (which is now overdue because I haven't had time to finish reading it, due to the thirty-seven hours I've spent this week in an office)
• Reading The Monk Downstairs, another book I haven't had the time to finish

Jeez, it's still only 4:30? The clock hates me.

Wow, five posts this whole summer. But I have a good reason.

While it may seem like I've been slacking ridiculously, my lack of posts was actually due to my lack of a job and limited internet access. The trade off, though, is that I got to spend a glorious summer working on my writing. For three and a half months. Nothing but writing and doing my own projects. No psychotic bosses. No copier jams. No weekly bullshit staff meetings. This summer was the most awesome awesome that ever awesomed.

And now, I'm back.

Yes, I've been forced by my dwindling funds to take a temp job, so here I now sit in a cubicle in an office building decorated primarily in shades of brown, light brown, tan, beige and puke green. I pry my ass out of bed in the morning, despite the screams of protest emanating from every fiber of my being, and drive seventeen miles out to the burbs for a job in a very brown sales office. But, it's only temporary--as I must keep reminding myself.

This too shall pass.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.
A stitch in time saves nine.
My heart will go on.

Okay, now. So I'm still the same starving artist/writer as before (and oh yeah, while I'm at it-- BUY MY STUFF!) I'm just spending my weekdays breathing recycled office air, attempting to simultaneously look busy and stay awake.

But, as I said, it's only temporary.