Today on Twitter, I began to lament my life.
Okay. That is really dramatic. I actually just began to harp on the fact that I don’t have regular people problems. I’m a Regular Person, so I really don’t understand why I’m not privy to this “perk” of life. Instead, I’m subjected to some Murphy’s Law (sidenote: when I began this blog, it was to bring to light my deepest intellectual thoughts; however, since I’m subjected to much from the Universe, I’ve just decided to blog my life).
See, this all started as a joke back when I was an undergrad at Central Michigan University. I was a McNair scholar and was working feverishly to finish my independent research project. As luck would have it, I dropped my laptop on the floor and it stopped working (read: I lost data source #1), then my flash drive broke (read: I lost backup of data or data source #2), and as luck would have it, my school decided to update the NVivo program on all of the computers and I couldn’t open data source #3. So I had to start over.
A week before my deadline.
Don’t worry, I got it done, but I also picked up a new nickname from my cohort — Murphy.
Since then, things that can go wrong, will go wrong. Very wrong.
And this is the story with my Blackberry. In short:
My Blackberry begins to act weird a few weeks ago and I thought it wouldn’t hold a charge, so I bought a new charger. Then 3 days ago, my Blackberry wouldn’t charge at all. As such, it died (to never turn on again). I go through all of this crap with riding the bus (I don’t have a car) to the mall (the nearest Sprint store) to be told, “Oh we can’t fix your phone. Go to another store.” Seeing as I’m on a limited income (read: my Momma gives me bus money), I had to wait another day to go to said “repair store.” Now, here is the saga:
My Mom says, “Sweetie, do you want to drive?” Now, I don’t like driving. I have really bad anxiety and I’m afraid that I’ll panic and something will go wrong. But because my Mom asked this question with that undertone that says, “You are driving, this is not an option,” I say, “Sure.” So we’re off. We go to drive. Now, I had an interview on yesterday afternoon, so I was already panicky. Go to my interview, do well, and drive to the Sprint store.
I get to the light to turn into the strip mall and it’s red. It stays red. There are about 14 cars behind me and this light has not changed…at all. So, I turn. Because well…there are 14 cars (and counting) behind me and the lady directly behind me is making all of these crazy hand gestures. The result — I get pulled over.
Now, I sweetly go to park and the cop says, “Ma’am, do you realize that you ran a red light?” I say, “Yeah, about that. It’s not working.” As I look up, the damn light changes! To make a long story short, I just put my head on the steering wheel and waited as he wrote out the citation. Because, what else can you do?
Then I get out of the car to walk into the store and I almost get hit by this car. That’s speeding in the damn parking lot. Does the cop say anything to that driver? No. Of course not. However, the driver was sexified…so my shallow ass forgave him (and got his phone number).
But the kicker…the kicker was being told that the store could in fact NOT help me and that I had to file an online claim.
My only question is — Can I send this ticket to Sprint?