It’s been that day.
Between learning last night that once again Darco’s car is in need of repairs (I can’t underline enough how much I HATE Pontiac vehicles), and being out of Almond Milk (AGAIN!), last night kind of preempted the version of day I was destined for today. By the way, learning that we were out of Almond Milk was after I took the thirty minute side trip after work to gather other ingredients for the smoothies, including a new protein powder that is a tasteful blend of grass and sand.
Cat is heading to the vet this afternoon (AGAIN!) for acting stranger than usual*.
No Almond Milk means no smoothies this morning for breakfast. This equals Dunkin Donuts for a quick sandwich. A twenty minute line outside…a twenty minute line inside due to a 16 year old discovering their first job.
Money Orders: How hard is it to locate place that makes money orders? I knew the Post Office did, but only if you have cash or debit with you (I always forget my PIN so I use the credit option). This resulted in heading to the bank (adding extra time) to get a money order.
Why did I need the money order? Because the beloved town of Camden Point, Missouri [pause...waiting for you to find it] only allows money orders or cashier checks to pay for their speeding tickets.
Speeding tickets? Why yes! Last month is a completely illogical, unrealistic, and overall stupid sense of entitlement rent-a-cop went postal on me for not following his speed limit, not the practical limit that would be in place in many towns based off road conditions, size of road, and expectation of braking to the stop sign at safe speeds. It’s the first traffic ticket that I’ve ever wished to argue, but sadly…I didn’t have enough faith in myself to actually follow through with the bitterness.
Coffee in hand, check acquired, I spent an hour in the town of Camden Point, Missouri trying to locate their City Hall to drop off the citation. There’s only one catch I learned after talking to the local librarian…
…THIS TOWN DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A CITY HALL! THEIR CITY CLERK WORKS FROM THEIR HOME NEARLY TWENTY MILES SOUTH OF THE TOWN…
…out of hostility I marched up to the Post Office (with no one there mind you) took the check, the ticket, and a piece of paper with the city clerks named scratched on it and stuck it together with a piece of tape [no envelope], and crammed it down the chute of the office for today’s pickup. If I get arrested tonight I’ll know it didn’t work (the city clerk did instruct me, over the phone, to go that direction).
Through the chaos I finally reached work at 12:00 PM. I missed the first World Cup match for the morning for a client, and I learned that have of my lunch was in a frozen block of ice.
This doesn’t even include a phone call about student loans…
Is that enough “First World Problems” for today?
*At this point the ‘dark one’ is jumping onto the top of the couch, ears back, taking a swipe at my backside, and hissing upon my entry into the apartment. No, this time that’s not normal.