Yesterday morning I saw an eighteen wheeler stopped on side of the road with a haybale up against the nose of the truck.
(I really don't know what you call that, but it looks like a nose.)
And half a mile later there were several
Oh, the carnage.
Approximately 54 miles later, I saw for the first time ever a real LIVE skunk.
I keep typing LIVE because all the skunks (skinks? what's the plural here?) I've ever seen have been dead.
And then, since it was raining, I almost hydroplaned on a huge water puddle which made me remember the crazy dream I had last night.
I took my little beat-up car (Dear Car, I love you. Rachel) to the shop to get the oil changed.
The little old lady that worked there hopped in my car and started to drive it around the building where the mechanics were.
She came back inside right away, yelling, "We can't fix your car! Its blowing coal!"
Coal, yes, coal, was blowing out of the air conditioner vents and landing in the lady's lap.
They refused to fix my car or even change the oil, saying that I was going to have to buy a new one because this one was obviously broken.
No legal stimulents this morning.
No, it wasn't my fault, I heard the distruction before I even rounded the corner.
Chemistry was really boring after Ms. D went over the info we needed to know for our impending
It was like a sleeping pill.
My head was bobbing and I kept waiting for Ms. D to yell at me to wake up and pay attention but she never did.
I have no clue what she talked about when she got to atomic numbers and protons and neutrons and such as that.
Soon we got a break and were allowed to vainly attempt to wake ourselves up by methods that didn't include coffee.
The unemployment bus showed up at school shortly afterwards, and we all had to troop over to the exercise building (in the rain) to be subjected to the "getting a job" nonsense, complete with a map we had to fill out with initials from booths we'd visited (stupid) so we could when a doorprize (lame).
Some lady in a very purple shirt tried to take me into the mock interview room but I told her I wasn't having no part in that because I already had a job, a good job that I work 45 hours at.
She really didn't seem satisfied with my insistence, but she decided to just let it go when I told her I really wasn't going to do it when she told me I didn't have to.
Then she tried to put me in the line that required me to answer a question about whether I had children at home under the age of 18.
I look like I'm twelve years old.
Children under 18?
When I answered negatory she decided that line wasn't for me either.
And then I got stuck in a line listening to a lady talk about a CD and a piece of paper but my ears perked up when she got to the part about templates for resumes and cover letters being included on the CD.
About once a year, I'll have to roam around Google, hunting for templates to make your own resume, at which point I get severely aggravated and curse the Internet people.
I decided that this was the one good thing about the whole unemployment bus parking outside the athletic building and that this magical CD was worth the water half-way up my jeans.
And the candy I got when I filled out the survey about my "experience" at the "job center."
I had never heard of a King Cake before.
Its some Mardi Gras thing apparently, complete with green and gold and purple glitter and a teeny-tiny baby that you have to be very careful not to swallow.
King Cake was good.
*NOTICE!! THESE ARE NOT MY ORIGINAL PHOTOS, I BORROWED THESE FROM GOOGLE.*