The weather is bad and my life feels like a tornado. Evidently, on one side of the state it is a blizzard and you can't see two blocks away. On this side of the state, the weather is gorgeous. The wind is blustery but it is nice enough to wear a short sleeve shirt and walk to work.
Why would I be walking to work though? Because my liscence plates were ripped off of my car. The fuckers keep picking on my car. That story comes at the end of the post. Let me tell you about when I discovered it.
I had just had the worst hookup in the history of St. Louis. I am still pissed about this. He seemed very nice and very hot. Then we got home and he tried to take things too far. I was really drunk and not having a good time. Instead of throwing him out, I just told him that I was done and if he wasn't that was his choice. I was done. I tried to go to sleep. He passed out before I did. And he started snoring. Like really loud trying to keep me awake snoring. Like thunder in a metal cage. Like a terrible noise coming from his lungs that needs to be checked out. I'm surprised that Her Highness did not hear it. He kept me up most of the night. Pissed me off.
So I get up in the morning after not sleeping and start making noise around the living room. He comes out a little while later and starts to try talking to me. I decide to get him out of the house so I tell him that I'm going for a smoke. He follows. I'm standing on the porch trying not to talk to him. Then I look at my car and see missing plates. I need to call my parents and the police and get this taken care of and he is still just lingering around. I want him to leave but can't tell him. Finally, he gets a little bit of the hint and asks if I'll call him. He gives me his number but he had lost his phone so I did not give him mine. I will not be calling him.
I take the entire day off. I finally got some laundry done but apparently not enough. My sheets were not dry after two cycles in the dryer. I slept on wet sheets. The comforter was dry but the sheets were still damp. At that point I did not even care. I went to bed.
This morning, after working a little, I start my adventure of trying to get my plates replaced. I knew that going to the DMV would probably not work, but I needed to try the easy way first. The car is in my parents name. I've never been to a DMV like in the movies. Typically, it has been a woman sitting at a desk giving me as much trouble as possible for being the only person she has seen that hour. I sit and wait about half an hour til they tell me that my parents have to give me power of attorney before they will give me plates. The other option was to go downtown and get the police report and fax it to my parents. Oh and the DMV sucks.
I got lost trying to find the place. All I know is that it is downtown. Like a boy in the city, I go to the first big building on the street of the address. Walking into the building almost got me a strip search. Courthouse. They tell me to go back to where I parked basically. I get a good search at the police something or other. The office looks straight out of the seventies. They give me my report (charge me another $5 for my inconvenience) and send me on my way. The parking lot that I parked in was apparently not open to the public. I got followed to my car by the parking attendant. I'm positive they would have given me a ticket if I had plates. I get a lot of crap and get told to leave when I tell him that I was done and leaving. I show him my copy of the ticket. He lets me go.
Now it is all up to my parents. They are either going to overnight my plates OR come down to see me this weekend. Sounds like fun? Oh you bet. I just know that I'm going to get pulled over with my lack of plates. So yeah, I feel like I'm in a tornado. I hope that I get to go to D.C. this summer. I also want to go to Connecticut. The Sweet Escape. Everything was going great until I tried to get what I wanted. Turns out what I wanted was definitely not what I wanted. Anyone else got some ideas as to what I want. Her Highness was wrong. The Postman can suck his telling me that I don't know what I want. What I want is for him to stop telling me what I don't know.
I'm going to work. Good luck L-Bomb.