A big shout out to Hurricane for being such a good sport yesterday when I wrote about him and used his e-mails in my entry.

*~*

After all of this thinking and analyzing and working and hiding, I woke up this morning and thought to myself, today would be a great day to get fucked up beyond belief.

Is that wrong?

Oh yes, it's been a while since I really DRANK. I mean, sat at the bar with a mission, but I think that's exactly what I will do this weekend.

Yes, I think I will pollute myself.

*~*

I had to go to the bank today, because my new ATM card does not work. And guess who I had to ask for help? You got it, her - the she-man one.

So she takes my card and runs it through and is like, "Oh, haha, this is very funny, but apparently, you have a ghost account."

Now, I'm not finding this very funny, but one of the two of us, proceeds to giggle as she explains "You see, they apparently issued the card, without giving you an account number, haha."

What??? Okay, I am not a stupid girl and I try not to be paranoid, but at this point I am pretty sure that someone at this bank is fucking with me. Intentionally fucking with my account. Because I don't hear about stuff like this happening to other people. In fact, my Dad says he's pretty sure stuff like this that happens to me NEVER happens to anyone else.

But, knowing I attract more bees with honey, I remain calm and smile and say, well, let's fix this.

And the she-man, smiles and says, she has put in the request, but it will take 24 to 48 hours for the card to work.

At this point, I quickly run through my brain and calculate how many years I may have to serve in the state pen if I quickly gather the ingredients to create a small, homemade bomb and blow up this bank...I conclude that even winning a temporary insanity plea and getting say, 18 months, I will not last even an hour in jail and decide to remain calm and play the game.

They give me cash. I leave quickly and do the only thing a girl can (legally) do to let off some steam before having to head back to work and face the firing squad: I buy myself a pair of sexy slingbacks and chain smoke two cigarettes.

I really wanted to hightail it to some dive bar, claim a stool, chain smoke and drink myself silly while debating local issues with the ex-union guy sitting next to me.

But, I took a lesson from the Rolling Stones as I snubbed out my last cigarette before heading into my office building wearing my new shoes and thought to myself, "You don't always get what you want...but you get what you need."

And sometimes, you need to be pushed the edge. It makes the climb back to the top so much more enjoyable.

Or so I've been told.

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