Mike and the no-good, horrible, very bad day.

Well.  Fuck a lotta this day.

I'm especially annoyed with today, because it snuck up on me, the little bastard.  It started out pretty well: did some work in the morning, applied to some summer jobs, then set off for campus.  Got a surplus ticket for commencement, so now my whole family can see the Dark Prince speak in the Main Ceremony (yes, Cheney's the speaker, ye gods), paid Todd for the departmental crawfish boil on Saturday, annotated some books of Cajun poetry for the paper due on Thursday at Highland with an Earl Grey iced tea.  Going so nicely, right?

Well.  I had been planning on doing some running/walking/bunny hopping/whatever over at the lake during rush hour, the better to avoid the road madness.  I even brought different shorts.  But leaving Highland Coffees, I looked up at the sky and saw the writing on the wall.  And felt the southeasterly wind, which never bodes well.  So I decided to call off the exercising.  Strike one.

Halfway down what I hoped would be a relaxing drive down River Rd., all cool wind and brooding skies, the heavens opened.  River Road is not the best road in dry, sunny conditions, but it becomes a bit nerve-wracking in the pounding rain (I just felt sorry for the cyclists training there; oy).  Strike two.

So what was strike three?  Well.  So I'm driving down Gardere, which I HATE to drive on in the rain, since everyone drives like an idiot on it in the best of conditions, and it gets slick like a motherfucker when it's wet.  So I'm going along, and the guy in front of me brakes.  I come to a stop behind him and look in my rearview, and there's no way in hell that Jeep's stopping in time.  Unfortunately Gardere is closely bordered by ditches, so I did the only thing I could do: sighed.

It's not really that bad.  It was a pretty low-speed accident, so my car's still perfectly driveable (albeit it now has a rope holding the trunk closed).  The other driver has insurance (same company, in fact), and there was no argument about the facts of the matter.  Hell, there even happened to be a sheriff in the parking lot of the carwash we pulled off into.  So really, it's not that bad.  Other than the wreck itself, the most annoying thing has been figuring out how to disconnect my trunk light so I don't run down my battery.

Still, I'm going through some sort of... I don't know.  You know how there's stages of grief?  Well, I'm not aggrieved as such, but I'm moving through some sort of process.  I'm currently moving through the tail end of an anger stage, which amusingly/illogically has been directed more toward my car than toward the guy who hit me.  Mainly I'm already thinking of the all-but-inevitable mold or mildew that will end up in the trunk.  Oop, shit, now I've suddenly veered toward the sadness phase.  I really have grown to like my car!  I don't like it to be hurt!  :( 

Luckily if I go to one of State Farm's Service First places it's all very simple, don't have to drive all over town to get estimates and all that.  There's even a chance I could get a rental car, which would be terribly handy, since by my quite amateur analysis of the damage it might take a bit of time (there's some bending in the outer trunk lip, which may or may not be tricky).  And if I can't, I can maybe get it done in Nacogdoches and steal my sister's car, since she'll be in Montana doing an internship.

So yeah, I'm annoyed, but really ok.  I'm having a Moosehead, eating some Ben & Jerry's (Pistachio Pistachio!).  And Phoebe's being terribly sweet.  I was peeing just now, and Phoebe butted her way through the poorly-closed door to jump on the counter and say hi.  I know this doesn't sound sweet, but Phoebe doesn't much like the bathroom for some reason, so it was a nice gesture.  Anyway, yeah.

ETA: I just realized another reason the wreck is vastly annoying. I had been composing a poem I was really into as I drove down River, which had been completely driven from my mind until just now (1:17am). I'm sitting here trying to reconstruct it in my head, but I think it's pretty much gone. Dammit.

But in the clear light of morning, all seems renewed.

Well, I mean, not everything: the car's still broken.  I had forgotten, however, the oven-like nature of the garage, which has baked my trunk bone-dry, so that's nice.  And last night I managed to write the poem that I'd been working on; it didn't come out as originally envisioned, but I think I got most of the touchstones.

( Si ça fait orage )

ETA: Forgot to mention. I talked to Susannah on Monday, and now I have a better idea of what I'm doing at CBC this summer. Apparently I'm to teach Drama and function as something which... isn't named as such, but which sounds to be an amalgam of a Senior Counselor and an Assistant Program Director. As she said it, teach drama in the morning, walk around in the afternoon making sure everything's going smoothly (or whatever schedule happens). No cabin this summer, seems.

Random observation

Did you know this?  I didn't know this.  Handy to know, though.  From the American Heritage Dictionary:

flux n.

...
3.Medicine. The discharge of large quantities of fluid material from the body, especially the discharge of watery feces from the intestines.
...

Can you tell I don't want to write this paper, and am thus stalling?

*gulp*

Never did write that paper before going to fancy Friends of French dinner (fabulous).  Due in 12.5 hours.  Problematic.  Trying to decide whether to go to bed and awake at 6am, write it all now, or do a half-and-half shtick.  Dangereux.  I'm pretty worried this won't get done, which just won't be good at all.