I made it!

Another Thursday night….After midnight….This was the kind of night when you just couldn’t wait for the weekend. I attempted to bust out my superstar, dance moves until a not so good song came on. I made my way to the spot where my friends were clustered. I set my purse on the ledge. When I turned around, I immediately realized it had disappeared. My phone, my ID… all gone. Panic swept me as I began searching for it. I waited until the doors closed and the ugly lights were on, to continue my search. Luckily, I had my trunk key, where I hid all my other keys, in my pocket and not my purse. I drove home, so tired that my eyes felt like burning fire. All that was rushing through my mind was that I had to get up, in what seemed like a minute to go to work.
It was 7am, I pressed snooze maybe half a dozen times, until I had to admit to myself that I was already late for work. Outside it was so cold, that it took my breath away. It was that chilling temperature that leads you to lose a body part in mere seconds. I brushed off the pile of snow on my car top and started my car. I quickly showered and put on my work face, got in my car and began the trek to work. I might have gotten about 15 minutes from my house and I began to swerve across the road. My tire was flat. I slowed down and pulled to the shoulder. Some young, have to say nice looking man, pulled over and offered to lend some assistance. I was about to help him get the tire out of my trunk, when I realized that my trunk key was in my jeans from the night before.. Nice.. I had no cell phone or bank card, so it was beginning to become apparent that my options were very slim. I begged a call off of this man and called my mom to come and save me. She didn’t take too long, although it would have seemed longer if I wasn’t sleeping in the car. I jumped in her car and we went to pick up my brother, to help us change the tire. I walked in my brother’s house to discover his roommate- my ex-boyfriend there with his new girlfriend. It was that same girl that attributed to our messy break up. Whatever, I spit off some comment about his house smelling rotten, made my brother come with us and began to make our way back to my car. Changing a tire in this weather proved to be a very timely task.
Okay, time to re-group and hurry home to go to parent teacher interviews with my son. I leap from the car, quickly bathe and then dress him in something decent. I suppose we could have very easily walked to the school if it wasn’t for the brutal cold and since my car was just running I made the decision to drive. As we enter the front doors to the school, we are greeted with a big hand drawn sign, kindly asking everyone to remove shoes and boots. I took off my son’s boots and set them down, at the same time I am noticing the five hundred other pairs of similar black boots.
The interview goes smoothly and we head back to the front doors. I put on my shoes and begin the search for my son’s boots. Great, they are just not there. I go to the office and recruit some help to locate them. After about half hour of inspecting labels, to find his markered on name I give up. Somebody obviously wore his boots home. I carry him outside to the car. I then slowly ease out of the parking lot, as the roads are like skating rinks and start to slide from the exit into the middle of the road. A car is racing down the road and not stopping. And, I can’t stop either. My arms automatically cover my son as we brace for the crash, Bang! Luckily, we are both safe. I don’t think I will say the same for the two cars. Two Hispanic men get out of their vehicles and begin to shout and swear at me with my six year old in the car. I am sobbing uncontrollably; I just can’t believe how angry they are. It just seemed odd to me. You would think that they would be glad it was my fault that their older car was going to get fixed up, probably nicer than it was in the first place. My parents came to the conclusion that maybe they didn’t have a properly insured car and that would be the reason for their irrational behavior.
It was definitely time for me to have a little down time. I was lying on the couch for only a few minutes, when I heard a knock on the door. I got up, answered the door and was completely stunned at the two police officers staring at me. The woman cop confirmed who I was and explained to me that I was being charged with a federal crime of fraud over ten thousand. You see, that same idiot I used to live with, was charging me for spending off every dollar he had to his name. It was my form of revenge to make me feel better about the betrayal and the thoughtful consideration he had taken of my son and I when he cleaned out our house, leaving nothing but a bunch of costly debts for me to cherish. The police woman explained to me that because we shared accounts, mortgage, credit and I had never been revoked permission to use these, I shouldn’t fret and lose any sleep over these charges. After filling out the reports at the station, she had no problem bringing me home to my son.
Here comes the point where I break. I ask my mom to baby-sit, so I can just leave. I escape to my friend’s house. I was wishing I had some money so I could go somewhere a bit further. At this time, I will just have to settle for here. I go in her kitchen and find a big bottle of Arubian rum. I polish off a significant amount of the liquor, trying extremely hard to erase this day. Laughter erupts from me. I am just in amazement at the day I have just endured. I sit and ponder to myself that if I made it through this whole day, what really can I not tackle!