I Get the Hint Now

Well, I'm not sure who I pissed off most. Maybe I shouldn't have dissed the Baptists. Or, I guess I could have left Homewood Jesus out of my blog. Maybe it's the old allet-bay uild-gay since I did end up missing my clean-up appointment Sunday morning. I don't know if it's one or all three of these entities, but I've apparently done something to anger the universe. Let's examine the last twenty-four hours: First, my car dies on Sunday afternoon. This leads to a frantic search for jumper cables followed by an extensive effort to get my car battery going again. Then, as I'm driving from my parent's house to my apartment, my phone stops working. I can't call in, call out, or text message. This is understandably inconvenient. So, Monday morning I wake up to set out for the Verizon store and the auto shop. At Verizon, I'm informed that I was simply dropped off the network for some reason or other. Apparently, this has nothing to do with anything I've done (like not paying my bill on time, etc.) but just happens sometimes. I find this particularly troublesome since the entire Verizon marketing campaign is built around the fact that the network is always with you, but I suppose we must file that as bygones. It's a good thing my self-esteem issues have improved over the last few years or beings inadvertently dropped off the largest cell phone network in the country, the one where you're always supposed to be "in," would really bother me. Anyway, then, as I'm leaving the Verizon store, someone slams into the back of my car pushing me into the car in front of me. Yes, someone with the vanity plate "ASMIL4U" hit me. (This struck me as particularly interesting as the tow truck loaded up her vehicle.) And, of course, when I try to start my car after this snafu, the battery is dead. The cop on the scene was very pleasant and tried to help me, but I explained that I had been on the way to the auto shop, and I think the not starting had more to do with phenomenally bad timing than the accident at hand. Now, as I was driving home from finally getting my battery fixed, I was thinking, "What else could happen to kick a girl when she's down?" And, that's when I discovered that it would not be kicking me when I was down, but a neighbor of mine acting like he was going to kick my dog. As I was walking Cassidy, she decided to run over and sniff someone. Now, I have her on her leash, so she's not actually going to get close to the guy or put paw prints on his incredibly chic Dockers (oh the horror!), but as she's moving towards him, he lifts up his back foot like he's going to kick her in the face. Luckily, because she is on her leash, she isn't close enough to get hurt, but I was appalled. Who does that? Who actually kicks dogs? Let alone dogs that are leashed and being walked by people who can see you? So, whatever I have done to offend the cosmos, I am sorry. I really am. Please, for the sake of me and my dog, stop the onslaught.