I've had a series of long days

I need to write this shit down. I am going to describe my weekend in detail, because I can't make this shit up.

So over the weekend my friend Lauren came down to see me. I love when my friends come down to see me, but I didn't get to take any time off of work and did not alter my workout routine because it's important to me to be properly trained for the half marathon in March. So this is my Saturday:

I wake up at 8am and head to the gym, where I run a solid eight miles. Saturdays are my long run days. I get in my car (whose check engine light has been on for a while [but really how seriously can you take those stupid lights?!]), and don't even make it out of the parking lot before it dies. A fellow gym member helps me get my car nice and situated safely in a parking spot. For some reason my car always breaks down when Lauren is in town, so she's used to this. I call her repeatedly but she's passed out, dead to the world. Oh well, I think, I'm no stranger to the bus. So in my SCAD hoodie and short running shorts, drenched in sweat, I head to the bus stop. My route lets me out in a "questionable" part of town where crackheads are known to linger. Not expecting to take the bus, I am weaponless. Yes, I usually carry a knife and pepper spray on me, but not today. Naturally, as soon as I get off the bus, some crackhead across the street starts yelling lewd things at me. I know I look extremely attractive in my running shorts and smell really great, but I do not appreciate someone offering to "slap that ass" under any circumstances. I keep my head low and walk fast, thinking he'll fuck off if I just ignore him. He is literally chasing me at this point, and I can hear him getting closer behind me. In this moment I was not afraid, but instead I felt a hot feeling in my stomach and I run through my options. I see some debris on the ground, consider chucking it at him. My friend Tasz lives around the corner, I consider running over to his house, but I'm not sure he's there. I'm thinking, I may actually have to defend myself in a few moments. Ahead of me I see a few mechanics standing outside their garage, so I make it a point to walk in between them even though it's out of the way, just so some other people can witness what is happening to me. Then, a magical angel man pulls his car over and asks me if I'm okay. I said I was fine, just being harassed a little too much is all. He gives me a can of pepper spray and says to be safe. I wave the pepper spray in the direction of the crackhead, so he knows to back down. He continues yelling, but finally recedes. About a hundred feet away from my front door, Lauren calls me. It's not even noon yet.

So after a long, tiring, but fun weekend with Lauren, I finally have to deal with my car situation on Monday morning. So I wake up at 8am once again to call the highest rated garage on yelp.com, they can get me in that afternoon and suggest a towing company. I call the tow truck people and tell them to meet me at my car in forty-five minutes, then I call a cab to come pick me up. It's 8am and my brain doesn't really start working until 11, so I'm trying to quickly get everything I need put into my backpack and cab it to the gym. I figure I'm already up, may as well get a workout in before work. I arrive at my car and am surprised to find out that it actually will turn on, however sputtering and dying every few minutes, but it's enough to get it to the nearest garage and save me the $85 to tow it. I quickly google "car repair" on my phone and find the nearest Auto Zone. That's right, Auto Zone, which as I quickly discover is NOT a garage, but a car parts store. Of course. Like I said, my brain is not awake yet. My car can barely go 15mph and is dying at every light. So naturally a police man pulls me over, to which I have to hastily explain I'm just trying to get to Auto Zone before it dies again. He offers to "escort me," sure whatever. Of course I instantly realize my mistake upon getting to Auto Zone. Frustrated, I park my car (at a downward angle) and try to find the nearest garage. Fortunately there is one around the corner! But now I can't get my car to start due to, that's right, the incline. Frustrated, I get out of my car and have to PUSH IT MYSELF up the small hill onto flatter parking lot ground, and my car finally starts. So finally, after all that, I bring my car, sputtering and dying to Klingemann Auto Repair, who I really need to give mad props to because they took care of me in a timely, professional, and affordable manner. Thanks, guys, really.

Having settled that, I take a cab back to the gym for a much-deserved workout. I hit the showers and quickly realize in my haste to get all my shit together, I had forgotten my towel at home. Oh well, I think, there's no going back now, I have to be ready for work within the hour. So I unload my stupidly expensive shampoo and conditioner in the stall (I'm a hairstylist, shampoo is an investment), and once I'm done, I am trying to dry off like a dog, just shaking water off parts of my body best I can. It didn't work so great. I had to slither into my clothes, everything sticking to me. Possibly one of the grossest feelings in the world. My outfit is...okay. Not the best, but not bad for being thrown together at 8am.

I had spent too much on cab fair already, so I decided to bus it to work. After figuring out what route I needed to take, I calculate I have juuuuuust enough time for breakfast at Taco Cabana. I inhaled my food, thinking if I throw this up it would be almost whole. But I dash out the door and walk hastily to...the wrong fucking bus stop. THE HELL?! I realize my mistake instantly, the stop I need to be at is just down the street, and if I book it, well, I just might make it! But no. It was like a scene from a terribly scripted romantic comedy. I was running, arms flailing, just as the bus pulled away. Frustrated, I call my boyfriend and yell at him for no reason. This proves to solve nothing at all, so I call the cab company for the third time that day (not even noon yet). I was at a weird intersection, apparently, because after fifteen frustrating minutes, the cab has not arrived. I call again, they said they sent a cab but "couldn't find the address" (HELLO, GOOGLE MAPS, COME ON), so they send another cab. Twenty minutes pass. I am getting dangerously close to being late to work. I call the cab company again, and once again they admit their driver could not find my location so they send another cab. I mean come on, how hard is it to find "across the street from the YMCA"?!

So the cab FINALLY shows up, I am only slightly late to work, and a coworker was nice enough to give me a ride home after work. So this weekend my faith in humanity was tested, and it came out positive. Between the man who helped me move my car, the guy who gave me pepper spray, the amazing mechanics of Klingemann, Lauren carting me around, my coworker giving me a ride, hell, even my boyfriend for letting me yell at him and being understanding enough to not hold it against me, all these acts of kindness far outweigh the shit storm that tried to ruin my weekend.

You know what the real kicker is, though? I left my fucking expensive ass shampoo at the gym.