you've got a fast car

2 posts in one week? to what do we owe this pleasure you ask? Well, I'm just trying to keep myself awake at work today and ran out of things to do. Monday I found myself working at an undisclosed location in east bumble, Georgia with who I so lovingly refer to as Dr. McDreamy (behind his back, of course). With this being a Monday morning, most would expect me to be pouting, cranky, and half asleep until 9:30. I was actually in a relatively good mood. I was working with McDreamy and I'd probably be done by noon so I could go do important things like get my oil changed, perhaps run by Target, maybe even wash my car if there was time (we'll talk more about my car in a minute)...this was a good day. 14 hours later, when I was in the same spot with 58 degree temperatures, I was no longer singing the Cinderella theme song while imagining woodland creatures dancing on my shoulder as I skipped merrily through the forest. Instead, all I could think about was whether or not I was going to attempt to gnaw off my left arm or wait until I could hijack the nearest fast food place. McDreamy had lost his sparkle; and I was tired, hungry, and cranky...just ask my family how well this scenario usually works out....
the good news is I got in bed only 21 hours after I had woken up, I eventually ate, and the world was a happy place again...until 7:28 Tuesday morning.
The black stallion (my car) arrived approximately 2 minutes early to chauffeur the duchess to the airport for her flight to South America. I'm already planning my day when I'm about to pull in her driveway. I note that her trash can is out, so I may want to not smack into that. I also note that a car is coming towards me, so I slow down so I can still swing out wide to get in between said trash can and the brick steps/hand rail. I slow down, jackass slows down. I sit there annoyed with my blinker on trying to show this guy that I'm trying to make a right turn I mean come onnnnnnnnnnnnnn. He doesn't move. Now. Here is where I made my tragic mistake. Instead of being PATIENT and waiting for this gentleman to move, I get pissed. I forget for a splitttttttttttt second that I drive an SUV. Not a matchbox car. I slam my car into the driveway and promptly run the entire length of my rear passenger door and trunk area down her wrought-iron handrails. Now. My first thought is, "uhh, did I hit the trashcan?" I get out, realize the trashcan is still chilling my the side of the road. Then I get a little nervous. My second thought was "OH SHIT, replacing that railing is really going to be expensive, I guess I should probably return everything I bought at GAP last weekend." I was honestly relieved that the only damage was on my car, because I'm a moron and deserved it. After I got over that my next thought was a pattern of several curse words that would have caused my mother to wash my mouth out with soap (yes, she did this to me on more than one occasion...see how well that worked out?) UGH. Not a great start to the week. I had an estimate done on it yesterday and the guy told me it would be just under a thousand dollars to fix. Now, we all know I laughed at him and walked out, but I'm planning on taking it to a few more places to see what other kinds of numbers I get. In the meantime, I'm holding on to knowing that my week WILL get better. Jack Johnson in concert on Friday. Yes, please.