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Did you ever have one of those days when everything seems to go wrong and you wish that the day hadn't even started?
I did and it was the accursed Thursday 29th of may. A day so revoltingly filled with setbacks that I've decided to not acknowledge it in the date of this article. Ha! Take that Thursday 29th!
It actually started on the night before when my German army was brutally slaughtered in a World War 2 game. Its never fun to be slaughtered, especially if you're using an borrowed army that slaughtered your own troops a week earlier. 2 massacres in a row is Gods way of saying you shouldn't play a game.
The really bad stuff started the next day though. It should always be taken as a bad sign if your watch stops working at the start of the day. It stopped dead. Not a single tick in it left.
Not thinking to much of it (yet) I proceeded towards breakfast. The last available bread had mould on it. Thick green mould. Riiight. No problem. I'll just... not eat then this morning. No problem at all.
Not the actual mould (thank God)
A little unsettled but still somewhat confident I marched off to my car to get to work. That's when things started to get creepy. My car had suddenly started to produce a high pitched whine each time I released the gas. No apparent mechanical problem, just a sharp high whining noise each time I took my foot of the gas pedal. Wheeeeeeeeeeeee. Like crying. Like weeping. It scared the living crap out of me. Luckily, I have no knowledge whatsoever of engines so after a while I managed to ignore the problem and drive to work. Seriously, what was I supposed to do? These engines are filled with parts I don't understand!
Not my actual engine. (This is becoming a theme)
These omens did not bode well for my father's bypass surgery scheduled for later that afternoon.......
Yes, that's right. On this day of days when everything so far was going piss shit down the drain faster then a mouse's dinner gets turned into poop my father was getting bypass surgery. This was to prevent his heart from clogging up which causes all kinds of nasty side effects, the most prominent being death. And not the fun kind of death either.
No, instead its the annoying kind of death, with the crying and the shoveling dirt in people's faces. For a moment I actually considered calling and saying that he shouldn't get his bypass because I had had bad omens. Then I realized that that would be retarded and that I'm not a superstitious idiot. Most of the time anyway.
But then, incredibly, after a day of normal teaching business (namely being yelled at my the director, being shouted at by students and being pleaded at to postpone tests) I got a phone call. It was my sister, telling me to sit down.
My first thought was, crap he died. Honestly. I wouldn't have been surprised. This day had been so filled to the brim with monkey shit that a death in the family would have been merely the final drop in the cauldron of endless bullshit.
Luckily, he didn't die. But his bypass had from one moment to the other become complicated heart surgery with the likely chance of death. Great. Excellent.
Could this day get any worse? Well, yes. Of course it could.
In order to try and forget at least part of the crap fest I had been treated to this day I tried to play a new episode of House, freshly ripped from the Internet and provided to me by someone kind enough to release me from the annoyance of downloading it myself.
The disk proceeded to explode in my DVD player.
Right. No problem.
Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to find the nearest nest of kittens and brutally bash them against a brick wall to release at least some of the tension I'm feeling.
Thursday may 29th 2008 sucked and from hence forth did not exist.