should have been a sign of things to come. Who knew? I woke up with my jaw pulsing, barely able to eat, to chew, to open my mouth because of the apparent wisdom tooth that made my cheek bubble up and hurt like a bitch. I dealt with it the only way I knew how — I ignored it as best as I could.
The pain became unbearable. Unrealistic too, because I was starving, but I couldn’t eat. Knowing I was allergic to two common types of painkillers, I convinced myself that the kind with a different chemical make-up couldn’t possibly give me an allergic reaction, too! I took something for the pain. And less than an hour later, we found ourselves rushing to a drugstore for an antihistamine. Another hour later, I was crashed on my bed, half-blind from puffy eyes and worn out from the stress. I had plans. I had to cancel everything.
My eyes were still slightly swollen, my face uncomfortably uneven. It was embarrassing enough but I didn’t care. It had been a weird couple of days, so we went out to have a much-deserved fastfood lunch. With some effort, I managed to stuff myself with good unhealthily yummy food. Satisfied, I turned to get the cigarettes from my bag.
My cigarettes were gone. My ENTIRE BAG was gone. Some sick fucker had grabbed it from the chair quite skillfully while no one was looking. I mentally ran through the items in my bag — my wallet, my IDs, my money, my house keys, my iPod…
I talked to the manager, not really believing that anything could be done to get my stuff back. I left, deflated and sick of everything.
I still had to go to work, so I did. Itching to go home afterwards, I took a cab. I knew all my other housemates would be out tonight, but I didn’t care. With the keys I borrowed from one of them, I walked up to the gate with a sigh, thinking, finally. I just wanted to curl up in bed and surround myself in smoke. I turned the key and — was that a dull snap?! I looked down to see the key had broken in half. One half stuck in the keyhole. I was stuck outside the gate with no way in, well past midnight and alone.
It was the grand finale to cap off my half-a-week in hell. I was sick. I was robbed of my gadgets and money. Lastly, I found myself homeless.
is today. I slept over at a friend’s house the night I found myself locked out of the house, tragically halved key in my hand. I’m typing this on the office computer. I got here via taxi, one with a nice, non-threateningly congenial driver who talked to me about tattoos.
The day started off nice enough.
Please keep the niceness coming. I’ve had enough shit to deal with in the span of a few days to last me a year.