So this weekend started off really well, there was obviously a boy involved, and everything was running smoothly. My sexual drought was quenched, albeit temporarily, and I couldn’t help but see the world through rose-coloured glasses – and if you know me well enough ,this is as close to elated as I get.
Until it all came crashing down this morning.
What, me happy? That’s un-possible.
Naturally, I was in a foul mood, so I ditched out on classes and went shopping. Probably not the brightest thing I’ve done but the situation called for some retail therapy, because that’s what shallow people do.
I bought that $200 Franklin&Marshall hoodie that I had my eye on for ages (at 50% off no less) and some jeans as well as a bright pink vest (because the purple one looked horrid on me).
I even treated myself to some Starbucks coffee, that’s how down I was (I’ve tried to stop spending so much money on coffee because my coffee tab was approaching $30/week).
And then The Space Invader called in sick; and by ‘called in sick’ I actually mean just plain old didn’t show up for her shift – I was livid, and plan on going out of my way to get her fired. The only reason that she still works at our store (everyone hates her) is that she’s a good upseller and when you’re dealing in hardgoods (snowboards, bindings, and boots) that’s a very good thing.
Tomorrow is another day, and there’s no way that it could get any worse right?