It's Monday...

Gawd, I am soooo happy it's Monday. Why, in the name of all that's holy, is this true? Well, my weekend could qualify as a giant crazy disaster. The kind of weekend that leaves you screaming and tearing your hair out as you gas up the chainsaw to destroy everything in your path.

It started on Friday. I got a ride home a very nice lady I just started working with and my left over olive salad leaked onto the backseat of her car. I wanted her to stay so I could clean it, but that seemed weird. She was great, kept telling me don't worry, but yeah well...awkward. Now I have to see her at work this morning. Ugh!

Saturday night, my sister and I went to friend's house on the North Side, which is the polar opposite of where we live in Chicago. We started the drive home at about 11PM. We cruised along for about five minutes when the transmission light blinked, then everything crapped out. Stranded on Sheridan Road. Yay! And being a Saturday night, we could get a hold of no one to come and get us. At least anyone who would have been sober enough at this point. An our later, the tow truck guy arrived, and he offered to give us a ride, but his truck was rather small. Scratch that, it was like Hot Wheels toy truck sized with a single bench seat. With his kid already taking up some space. No way are me AND my sister fitting in there. My sister was the payee insurance holder so she got the remaining life boat seat. You can guess where I'm riding. My conversation with the driver went like this:

Driver to me: "No problem. You can ride in the in the back of the van."
Me: "You mean the van that has to be hooked up with the chains and hook thing and towed?"
Driver: "Exactly. It'll be fine. And since I don't want to lose the van, I'll hook her up good and tight."
Me, heart pounding in my throat as I eye the rust spots on the chains and the big hook thing: "Is that safe?"
Driver with evil smile: "Sure. Just strap in tight and don't move around."
Me, like an idiot: "Umm, okay."

So there I am, white-knuckling the arm rest, praying to Jesus, God, Odin and every other spirit I could think of as we careened down Interstate 90. I fervently hoped that the next bump wouldn't send the van (and me) flying into speeding traffic or off of the very high overpasses. We made it home at about 1:00AM. I kissed the ground as soon as I got out of the van. Of course, I then had to walk the six blocks to my house. But, I stuck to the shadows like any smart hood rat. Because yeah, those lighted areas, only tend to point you out as bait for the bad guys.

My weekend was not finished with those episodes, oh no, siree. Yesterday was a lot of little problems that snow-balled and resulted in me wasting a lot of time doing stupid things. Arrgh!!

On the other hand, I did get to see the season finale of Walking Dead and it was total kick-ass. Those first twenty minutes or so had me sitting at my TV, jaw agape. However, I just have to say that more than ever, I want to beat the crap out of Rick's wife, Laurie, Miss "The men have it handled" and ring the dinner bell for the walkers.