Yesterday was a bad day for so many reasons. But mostly, they were work-related.
1) I had a huge fight with my boss. We screamed and shouted. At the moment of my screaming and banging fist on table, I didn't care if I was fired or not. I wasn't fired, but I was so pissed off with her, I'm pretty sure I frothed from the mouth. It wasn't work-related.
2) I started training yesterday.
3) I lay awake tossing and turning all bloody night with stomach cramps. The Myprodols I had formally swallowed made fuck-all difference, except that I couldn't feel my fingers, which just freaked me out.
But, and it is important to realise this: in the dark haze of a horrific day, one needs to find the light somewhere. Even if it is the smallest stream of light amongst other bigger things.
Heinz Winckler's older, sexier brother smiled at me in the traffic yesterday. He made eye contact, so I was certain he wasn't smiling about my swinging fuzzy dice or the flower on the dashboard like everybody else does. I froze and smiled back, having to tear my eyes off him.
See, most people give me a thumbs up or wave, because apparently driving a new Beetle with fuzzy dice and a flower is mildly entertaining. Arno Carstens once let me into his lane, not before flashing me a wicked grin and giving me the ever-predictable thumbs up.
Heinz's Older Sexier Brother sat cool as a cucumber in an Audi A8, dressed in a suit. I, on the other hand, after a very trying day involving tearing clumps of my hair out, breaking out in hives and hiding the hovercraft-sized bags under my eyes with cakey concealer...looked a right mess. Yet he still smiled. At me.
Fuck. If only, like in the movies, he would do a u-ie and follow me home, to bang me up against the stairway bannister. But I suppose one calls the stalker brigade when one finds someone is following them.
Today had better be better.