It’s already been a rough week. With work troubles, the violent lizard attack, and the complete lack of a good hair day, I was struggling to put on my happy face yesterday.
Last night I came home and picked up my mail only to be greeted with a letter that everyone will be jealous to hear about…
I received a letter from an attorney telling me I was being sued.
I can’t go into the details for obvious reasons but the highlights are as follows: There was an injury sustained near (not on) my property. The group who owns the item that caused the injury is pointing the finger at me for breaking the item (I didn’t of course) and thinks I should be held responsible for the injury.
So it got me thinking, is this what it feels like to have a complete and total mental breakdown? And, can I go to the same mental institution as Britney Spears? I think they have a spa.
I have to admit that I was a bit miffed by a part of the letter. The attorney included the name of the person who is suing me. Fortunately he picked the one out of the four households in the whole city featuring caring, compassionate, religious, moral, law-abiding citizens who would be safe with that information. As I walked out of Vons last night a souped up black SUV was parked directly in front of the door with a huge decal that read ‘Got Ammo?’ On the back was a National Rifle Association sign and a bumper sticker that read, ‘100% No Surrender!!!’
Surprisingly I wasn’t in Alabama.
I don’t know about you but in this city, I would have asked my attorney to keep my name anonymous and throw in lots of ‘please’, ‘thank yous’, and ‘have a nice days’ at the risk of sending a letter to someone like Mr. ‘Got Ammo’.
I dragged myself home, drank my dinner by double fisting bottles of wine (glasses are sooooo last week), and sat to watch the Simpson’s while wondering, “What is the technical definition of an alcoholic? Exactly how long do you have to be one before going to meetings? And how long is mom going to believe our story that the Corona’s we pour in plastic cups are ‘Mexican Soda’?”
After a couple hours I figured everything out! It was as clear as the bottom of my bottle of Gewürztraminer. I have two options:
A) Run away to Kansas. Permanently.
B) Go outside, fall on item that caused this mess and sue myself to pay for the other lawsuit.
I am such a genius.
The cool thing is, this has me so worked up I haven’t been able to eat. Maybe now I can finally get rid of those 10 pounds lurking around my lower half. How exciting is that? But I can’t let myself know how great that is because then I’ll get all happy or whatever and I’ll start eating again.
Shhh! Don’t tell me I look good! It's better for my outfit for the Toga party this Saturday if I stay down in the dumps for at least 2 more days.
Maybe then I could make my Toga a mid-drift.