Well I have passed the test, just like all the rest

But never really understood the reasons why I took it in the first place. Ahhhhh, in the first place.

Last Friday we went on a moonlit canoeing trip, and he picked me up from work. I left my car in the garage here, assuming I would pick it up on Saturday or Sunday. Well, both those days came and went, and I never managed to make it back. So yesterday I took the train down, with the intention that I would drive my car home. The only problem with this was that I had forgotten my keys in the front seat of his car in my rush to get out and get to the train in time.

My best friend took me home from work - and this morning I headed out for the train again - this time with my keys. At first, there was a 20 minute delay for the train, which soon stretched to 40 minutes - which ended up that the train was cancelled completely. Lovely. So I am now stuck - extremely late for work which is at least 45 minutes away with no way to get there. So, I called Michael who works 30 minutes north of the train station and pleaded with him to come take me to work (45 minutes south of the train station). Miraculously, he did without much grousing.

So I get downtown, drop off my briefcase in the office and take the metro as I need to get to the passport agency (we leave in less than 2 weeks, and I have still not applied for mine - perhaps I am too irresponsible to be a parent?). The metro promptly breaks down. So I hop off, run downstairs, and walk to the next stop and get on another one... which is delayed about 15 minutes.

I just barely make it to my appointment, and have to take the metro again back to the office - and of course - it breaks down. At this point I'm just pissed - so I decide to walk. As I'm heading back to the office, a flock of birds fly overhead and I feel something sticky on my forehead. Reaching up, I manage to smear it all over my hair. Fan-fucking-tastic. Just remember, you heard it hear first - avian poo is the newest fashion accessory.

So while I'm trying to de-defecate my face (good heavens - who knows what kind of creeps this sentence is going to direct to my site) but you see, all I have is a leather portfolio. And I don't really want to wipe bird poo all over the portfolio. I didn't bring my purse with me, so I am sans handwipes. So I am pulling off leaves from a ficus tree, cussing loudly, and trying to wipe it off. At this precise moment, three of the partners in my firm walk by and look at me like I'm crazy.

And you know, maybe they're right.