Yesterday, I was in no shape to go anywhere or do anything due to my ovaries punching me from the inside out, and decided what I needed was some chinese delivery. 45 minutes later, there was a knock on my door and a man who either spoke very little English or was Ashton Kutcher in disguise, punking me, was shouting at me “SOOOOO BEAUTIFUL! VERY BEAUTIFUL! VERY SO BEAUTIFUL!”
Thank you, crazy man. I have been flatter-terrified into never ordering from that restaurant again.
I made an important discovery today: Yelp is missing a button in their peer-reviewed review process. I hope they rectify this error immediately.
I rest my case.
This morning, bleary-eyed and filthy, I climbed into the shower, and attempted to pull out the knob to start the flow of water. It wouldn’t pull. I applied more pressure. It wouldn’t pull. I then dug in both heels and pulled backward as hard as I could with both hands, and it finally yanked on–but it now spins ineffectually from hot to cold, with only freezing cold water issuing forth from the spout.
Yes. I managed to break my bathtub.
I didn’t have it in me to take a freezing shower today, so I washed my hair as best as I could in my sink, washcloth-washed the rest, and as a result, am only marginally less filthy.
I then called the office and begged, begged them to come and fix it today, for the good of mankind, or at least for the good of the noses of mankind directly surrounding me. However, this also meant that a stranger would be entering my apartment today, which I had not planned on, and would need to do some tasks to keep them from getting the wrong impression of me and calling the police, namely removing the ‘blood’ soaked sheet from the bathroom and hiding it and also burying the ‘learn your fuckin science with the insane clown posse’ booklet under a stack of papers.
The day can only improve from here, right?