Well, FUCKFLANS.

[railenthe]

Work yesterday went awesome.  Got home though and realized that I'd left my keys there.  I turned around and picked them up.

 

Elevator ride largely uneventful, aside from a drunken guy who insisted on getting inside of my personal space and talking about “Jeeeeeeesssush” (I kid you not, that was how he said it).  He knocked into me once or twice—actually it was more like knocking into my coat—but at the time I didn't really think anything of it.

 

I get home and make myself a little something to eat, have a glass of juice, finish repairing Jeannie—and promptly have an inexplicable panic attack.  Nothing even happened.  It takes several conversations at once and finally a Vistaril to get me out of it.

 

It's not until this morning that I realize something is missing.  I wind up having to put in a call to work when I realize my Metrolink pass is missing.

 

Everything gets tossed into the air: chairs, laundry, the bed—until I remember that it's in the coat I'm not wearing today because it's forecast to be a little hot.

 

...except it's not there.

 

I remember the guy on the elevator then, the way that no matter how I turned, he managed to end up behind me.  Then I check my pockets again.

 

The money's gone, too.

 

Before physical therapy today, I'll have to replace the pass.  That's $68.  On top of replacing my phone last week, that means the paycheck is gone.

 

It also means that outside of getting a miracle, I'm not making those concerts—maybe not even just one.

 

Are you listening, Fate?  I give up.

 

EDIT:  and because of the unseasonable heat combined with the boiler still being on, beef that was supposed to be thawing is no good.

 

*huffs*
I'm not going to say anything.  I'm going to take a nap, clean up, and get ready to make a grocery run.  That's it.

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