Didja ever?...

Before I share my day, I'd like to offer an apology for the necessary extra step in commenting on my blog. I had to add the word verification feature to stop people from offering to sell me anatomy enhancements for anatomy I don't even have. I hope you don't mind.

Didja ever have one of those days where absolutely nothing goes right? I left the house this morning in a really good mood to run a couple of errands. I had a small package to mail at the post office, I needed to deposit two checks from containers I sold over the holidays, I needed to fill up the gas tank and lastly, stop at the grocery store for a dessert for movie Tuesday. OK, first stop: the post office in the small town south of my population 300 +/- village, park the car, walk across the street, it's not open yet. So, I go to the ATM. The machine takes my checks but when I go to make a withdrawal for gas, the machine groans, grinds, pings and finally spits out a notice that it can't oblige me. Well, that's a bummer, but there's another machine just a mile down the road, so off I go. This machine puts the big clock in the display panel that says "just a moment" and after having made no noise, flashes a sign that my withdrawal just won't be possible. So, I pull into the teeny tiny Credit Union building next to the ATM, get out, lock the car - and find out I'm 20 minutes early. Drat! So, I sit for 20 minutes (listening to my new Nota CD which rocks), finally get inside and get my money. Then I head to the gas station for gas. Getting gas goes well; inside I try to get a cup of English Toffee coffee and the machine spits up all over me. Double Drat. Ron, the owner, finagles the Cappuchino machine until it works, I get my coffee and head for the post office. There I wait in a line of four people while both of the tellers have conversations with the customers. Their business is clearly finished, they're just chatting - hazards of a post office in a tiny town. On the way home there's a railroad bridge I pass under and just outside it had a 'Bump' sign that I'd not seen before. Bump, my great aunties' panties, it was a hole in the pavement the size of a laundry basket which rattled my car and spilt my coffee. TRIPLE DRAT - FINALLY, I'm just a block from home when I realize - I DIDN'T GO TO THE GROCERY STORE. FUDGE! Maybe I'll try that tomorrow - or we'll have tangerines for dessert, my hips would love that. (On a completely unrelated note, when my grandmother said 'Fudge', we all bailed out the nearest exit - it meant someone was about to die. I'll share what happened when she said it about me in a later post.)