Saturday, February 7, 2009
I really should be writing an essay about Plato's
Apology and other mundane philosophical delights, but my procrastination masochism demands that I sit here and peruse the internet until it's 2 AM and I'm too tired to do anything productive at all today.
This past week has been one of those bad karma weeks. It all started with a trip to the Registration office for my new scooter. Since I haven't seen much of Seattle, I followed the recommendation of Google Maps and went all the way down near a massive Asian supermarket to try and find the building where the vehicle registration office is located. I spent four hours circling the International District before I finally stopped and asked someone.
It was 4th Ave, not 4th Ave S.
By this time, I was already going to be late to work. I called my boss while I got into the elevator, and told her I'd be a few minutes late. The line in the registration office was blessedly short, and I got to the counter very quickly. I had all my papers ready, my license out, the checks prepared, and when I got up to that counter, I sat down and was ready to get my scooter registration and get out of there. There was one problem with this, apparently, and it involved some obscure form about the mileage on the scooter. Dejected, I took my papers and left, scooting back to work and resigning myself to a return trip the next week.
On Saturday, I realized my drivers license was missing. Tearing my dorm room apart for the card produced nothing, and I could not figure out where I had left it for the life of me. I checked all the pockets in my laundry, and finally remembered the registration office. I called, of course. They were closed. I forgot about it until Monday, when I called and discovered that they did, in fact, have my license. All was well! All I needed to do was go back to the office and get it!
Thursday came quickly, after a week of running in crazed circles over midterms and wishing it was the weekend again. I drove to the registration office, retrieved the license, and left with a feeling of victory. My license! It was mine once more!
And then I tried to start my scooter.
I'm not sure how, or why. We bought the scooter used, you see, and it was in perfect condition up to the point when I tried to turn it on after leaving the building. I had left it outside for a total of five minutes, and it had gotten me downtown just fine. It had no intention of returning me to the school, however, despite repeated attempts to start it, kickstart it, push it downhill then start it, and other things done in desperation in hopes of getting that engine to turn over.
In the end, I called AAA. For my scooter. I had the vague sense that I was the only idiot to ever call AAA for a jump for my scooter, but the odds are that this was not the case. It took them an hour to show up, and with a buzz and a rumble, I was ready to go once more!
The next part of the ordeal was entirely my fault. I'm an idiot; I'll readily admit it. I was out of a prescription, and went to the Walgreens on Broadway to pick it up on the way back. Turning the scooter off was a bad idea, however, and when I got back outside it would not start.
Needless to say, it was a very long, heavy walk the four blocks back to campus.
By this time, I had missed work completely. I spent two hours looking around for a parking spot with an electrical outlet and a place to lock the thing, and then waiting for the campus security ops to jump me so I could get it to the garage. No jump came due to something about liability and my scooter's itsybitsy battery, so I called AAA yet again. They came, jumped it, and I drove it all of one block to the parking garage, where it could safely rest with its wheel locked firmly to a pole.
After this fiasco, I did not feel like going to Philosophy class. I was waiting for a meteor or lightning bolt to hit me at that point in time, based off of the luck I'd been having, so I decided to hide in my dorm until the 24-hour period of doom was over. It was productive, since I actually studied Japanese while I was hiding, but I have a strange feeling that I missed something important in Philosophy. It's just a hunch, though; it's very rare that something important happens in that class.
Skip forward to this morning, when I needed to go grocery shopping. I opened my wallet, and my credit card was not there. I tore my bags apart, went through my room, called the last places I had used it, and then called my friend Jenna to ask her where it could be! Then I called my mom to confess its loss, and endured a scathing lecture on how unbelievable I am. After this, I checked my wallet yet again. It had been stuck between two cards, and I had missed it.
Now, however, I noticed that my license was not in my wallet. I'm sure you can guess how that went, yet again. I found it in my wallet between another pair of cards, and the day was saved. I went grocery shopping and returned victorious, freshly stocked on artificially sweetened tea and freezer food.
Thus we are brought back to the Philosophy paper, and my hesitation to write it. I want to be able to sew tomorrow, and yet I can find nothing in my stash of motivational energy to force myself to work on the paper. I'm quite tired, which can probably be attributed to my late-night Livejournal coding spree, and I just want to sit and have fun. The only problem with that is the lack of people who are online right now.
This having a life on a Saturday night is very inconvenient for those of us sitting in our rooms.
Labels: karma, life, philosophy, scooter
6:54 PM