I've been living in fear the last couple of weeks. It's like something out of a cheaply-made horror movie. Girl parks car. Girl receives threatening notes on car about her broken car alarm. Girl ignores notes. Girl receives more notes that seem to be more and more bloodthirsty. Girl fears for her life. Girl is found and killed for not fixing her car alarm. Credits roll.
Except in my case, I was not killed and was kind enough to pay 80 dollars to get the dang thing fixed. Although in this situation I plead ignorance as the cause of my tardiness in fixing the problem. How was I supposed to know that my car alarm goes off "night and day," not allowing anyone to sleep? PUH-LEESE. Who needs sleep anyways?
Raul at the car-fixing place completely sided with me. How unfair to threaten calling the police! How cruel to call me "annoying!" Let's find the psychopath and duke it out! Thanks Raul for always having my back. Expensive as it was, I now can breathe freely knowing that a sleep-derived maniac won't jump me at night when I walk to my car.
|
|
"Don't let me ask the third time."
|
|
|
And my favorite part. The first note was signed as "Windsor Park Residents." The second was from the notoriously evil "Windsor Park PRESIDENT." I just got shivers down my spine.
|
Seeing that I was probably going to be murdered for my negligence, I decided to live it up these past couple weeks by basically going from one adventure to another. That, and staring at cadaver parts for my Anatomy Lab...
 |
| Eating out at Costa Vida and Cafe Rio....3 times....in one week. Hellloooo love handles. |
 |
| Waking up to this. No words. |
 |
| Saturday was a dream. A eat-powder-all-day-long-laughing-your-booty-off dream. |
 |
| This beautiful bracelet is the only evidence I have that I went country dancing. That's probably a good thing because our rendition of the Dirty Dancing lift was subpar at best. |
 |
| Date night with The Illustrious Beckstead. |
 |
| Blading is life. And so are repulsive bad table manners at Cafe Rio. |
 |
| Late night temple sessions by myself. I love this place. It's my safe spot from all care and stress and hurt. I can't say it enough; God lives and loves us. |
 |
| That is my little noggin on top of that rock. It's so warm we can climb outside! |
It is, in fact, possible to have fun in the face of probable cold-blooded murder.
No comments:
Post a Comment