Day 32 I Think.

SO, I traveled home from work in Center City...to about Powelton and Preston. Then, I changed shoes, put on a heavier jacket, and walked to Dahlak to romantically drink myself into oblivion

If you don't know how far a walk that is to get "cliche-drunk-over-a-break-up", use an internet.


Two cranberry-vodkas and a whiskey sour later, I decided it was time to go toward home. I went to the local Supreme, in hopes of obtaining a plethora of NON-VEGAN MICROWAVE-READY foodstuffs. A White-Castle-Box, Swanson-fucking-enchilada-meal, and Pepsi purchase later, I was ready to go home, not be bothered, and watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special on repeat- if my barely-wireless/disabled-when-Hulu-activated internet wasn't up for the task, I'd have the soundtrack at the ready.

However, Fucking-Life had designs on me... designs involving totally annoying me and ruining my depresso-angst with Annoyance.

You see, I had purchased one of those "mini-umbrellas" from the local Rite-Aid, as my Totally-Awesome (TM) Golf-umbrella ($4!!!) was missing due to... well, it was just missing. I had only purchased this, instead of the more curbersome, but probably more rain-hitting-my-body-prevent-ing larger model, because of the maker's claims on the umbrella's package:

"Uses Resistant Technology to Prevent Umbrella Flipping"

What? That's fucking amazing! Also (I later realized) Every umbrella uses this technology- it's called "Facing The Direction the Wind is Coming From, You Idiot."

Also, before I had even left the Supreme/Shop N' Bag/Why isn't this place closer to my apartment? store, the "handles" of the two plastic bags that the cashier had placed my goods within had ripped- letting the contents fall to the floor.

The security guard looked at me as if I was some drunk bastard (hint: he was correct!), as if That had anything to do with the shitty quality of these shit-bags. I collected my purchases, and placed them in yet another plastic bag.

Yes, I realize that, "Hey! What prevents That bag from being just as shitty?" Well, I didn't have any other options, sooo fuck you.

That bag later fulfilled Life's request at annoying me, and the handles ripped- about four blocks away from my apartment, whilst my Non-umbrella literally flipped out (Supreme is about six blocks away from my apartment).

Luckily, those three woman drinks had steeled my depression to an utmost degree (What? Yes.), and I carried that bottle of Pepsi, and those microwaveable non-vegan foodstuffs in my arms like they were collectively a really ugly baby-but-My-baby.

All of this to say- Fuck having to move because no one wants you to stay, Fuck shitty non-umbrellas, and fuck you for hurting me so bad- even if none of this is anyone's "fault", let alone yours.