The Beginning of the First Day of the Worst Day of My Life

November 20, 2008 at 1:49 pm 3 comments

I’m going to tell you a story.

I came home last night to find my apartment unusually… comfortable. Normally when I walk in the door I am greeted with a blast of hot air resulting in instant and profuse sweating, watery eyes, a feeling of being watched, dry mouth, and severe, crippling depression. So, I was sort of happy when I didn’t feel the need to strip down to nothing just because I came inside. That happiness, over the course of the evening, slowly developed into confusion, wonderment, hunger, stomach cramps, and eventually terror when I realized, the heat wasn’t coming on. I told myself, well these things go in cycles, it’ll probably turn on overnight. So, I cleaned up the gourmet taco dinner I had enjoyed, turned out the lights, and climbed into bed fully clothed with the genius plan of de-layering as I generated some amount of body heat.


Cut to: this morning – I am woken by my alarm, and find myself still fully clothed, clutching onto my boyfriend like one of so many baby koalas struggling for warmth and survival. Needless to say, the alarm was snoozed. Twice. I finally wrenched myself out of bed with my only hope being a hot shower to defrost my now frosty self, but as I ran the water, my terror and dry mouth returned. It. Was. Freezing. Suddenly it all made sense – the whole building’s heating was fucked, likely due to some lapse in my landlord’s judgement where “Open 99 cent store” and “Reschedule dog fights” had somehow taken the place of “Don’t kill tenants” at the top of his to-do list. I immediately fled back into my blankety coccoon and called the landlord, trying my best to mask my livid-ness. “Hi, this is Alison in the Butler Street apartment. I don’t know if you knew, but, it’s FUCKING FREEZING in here… oh you did know? Oh you forgot to get the oil? Well that’s good. Thanks…” …for nothing! You asshole! I’ll kill you! And I’ll set your 99 cent store on fire and piss on the ashes! I’ll fucking stab you!!

But alas, I had already ended the call. So I sat in bed, pondering my dilemma. Should I call out of work? I have terrible bedhead. I can’t go into work like this, and I can’t shower. But I can’t work from home, my phone bill will be outrageous! And crazy people will get my number. How am I supposed to wash the crusty stuff off my nose piercing? How am I supposed to remove this un-removable eyeliner residue? I need hot water! It’s my lifeblood god dammit! And speaking of blood, to add to my misery I also got my period, and instead of being exiled from the village and being forced to live in a cave for the duration of my “unholy woman curse” like in some more understanding, progressive places, I was still expected to go to work! Like I’m a man or something! Life is so unfair. But then, as if in a dream, I was visited by Clara Barton or Florence Nightingale or some lady from the past who didn’t have the modern luxury of something as sophisticated as hot running water and she gave me the solution to my predicament: the stove! Of course! Once I pick up my new kettle from the blacksmith and finish knitting my pot holder, I’ll be ready to go.

So, that’s where I end up. With a kettle, and a pot, heating water on the gas stove. Therms be damned, I need my hot water! And so, after much water cooking and sloshing back and forth to the bathroom, I managed to wash my face, remove the unremovable eyeliner, clean out my crusty nose piercing, and, with the concession of rinsing with cold water, even wash my hair. This was a horrifying and laborious ordeal, but amazingly, ended with one of my best hair days ever. Hey, so this day isn’t so bad after all! I put on my 9 million layers of clothing, packed up my homemade macaroni and cheese lunch, and went to kiss Jon goodbye. Things are looking up now, until… I step on his glasses. And kind of break them. The dry mouth and profuse sweating are starting to creep up on me again. Um, shit, gotta go.

And there you have it. The ultimate adversity overcome, with just a little bit of creativity and ingenuity. Some would’ve given up, some would’ve laid down and died, some would’ve threatened to kill their landlord. But not me, because I’ve got gusto. I didn’t have to miss work after all, and ended up being only a miraculous 26 minutes late.


Entry filed under: Alison, Miscellaneous Musings. Tags: , , , .

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3 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Joe  |  November 20, 2008 at 8:54 pm

    I feel exhausted just reading this!

  • 2. parkrangerolivia  |  November 21, 2008 at 11:30 am

    hahaha I feel like you are that woman from “Haveli” who lives in the desert and can only shower with like 3 cups of water. good for you, man. but you can always shower at the gym!

  • 3. alisaurus  |  November 21, 2008 at 11:45 am

    yeah i didnt think of that until very late in the afternoon. well, next time…


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