Blowin' in the Wind

I don't know who or why, but someone who controls the fates does not like me. Yesterday was a mediocre day, as today seems to be shaping up to be. I spent most of the day working on a cymbal-related project that I should be completely done with this week finally. After that MC & I went to pick up my fridge. Uneventful...Somehow we got it safely to its new home. Then I alphabetized my DVDs (how's that for a mundane detail!) and Dad came to pick me up & take me to the house. Somewhere in all of those things, Morning & I made plans for him to come up and watch a movie, presumably Star Wars.

I was convinced he was going to arrive before us, so I made Father turn the boogie up. Shortly after exiting the interstate, we were truckin' along at somewhere between 50 & 55 mph's, when a GIANT (and I mean GIANT) raccoon came from nowhere and we obliterated it. It was huge - I feel like we might have actually high-centered the Saturn on the raccoon. At this point, hideous sounds start coming from underneath the vehicle; we're dragging something. I'm not sure what, but I'm convinced it's the raccoon, and I have this unearthly horrible mental picture of this. My phone rings. Morning is lost. I try to give him directions, and then one of our phones drops service. Hideous noises still occuring.

Now it starts to sound like small things are falling off of the car, but the dragging sound is still going on. Umm....tiny pieces of raccoon? Ew. Finally the noise stops. Whatever we were dragging (the raccoon) falls off. All is well. Except....Morning calls again. More lost than before, and sounding none too pleased. I think I get him back on track, and then lost reception again. Turning onto the gravel...Okay, the rocks don't usually hit the bottom of the car this loudly. We get home, and the front license plate is missing, part of the grill is busted, and a whole piece of plastic that goes up under the front end is dragging the ground. Nothing to be done but bungee it up and wait for tomorrow to further assess this damage. At this point I call Morning...

I can't get him to answer, but it's not going straight to voicemail. I try a couple more times; eventually he ends up calling me. He is frustrated and going back home. So much for that.

Like any good fat girl, I stress-ate a corn dog & some cheese toast, made myself a Bloody Mary, and passed out. Please, tonight, don't suck. I'm begging you.