I'm Good, I'm Gone

Okay, so things started off kinda weird today. Since my first class today is actually online, I had to catch the bus for my *NEW* first class. Anyways, hopped on the bus, found myself a seat, and five seconds later, guess who's sitting in across from me?

Andrew. Yay?

It's never pleasant coming face to face with your past, and it's even less pleasant when you do it literally. Thankfully, I haven't shaved in a couple weeks, so he didn't really recognize me. Anyways, I had to options:

1) Say hi, make friendly small talk, move on with my life

2) Open up my copy of Fluke, hide behind it, pretend I didn't see him

You can pretty much guess which one I went with, huh? The weird thing is, once I got off the bus, I felt pretty good, like I was over all my stupidity. I felt pretty good about myself, really.

Then I tripped on the stairs and face planted.

If my clumsiness is any indication, I guess I'm still not quite over him. But, you know, I'm getting there. I think. I mean, as much as I hope I'll eventually look at him and wonder what I ever saw in him like Stacey said, I don't really want to. I'm not sure what I felt, but at least it was something, and it meant something. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into this, who knows? I'll figure it out eventually.

But my clumsiness doesn't end there. About ten minutes later, I was picking up some coffee before class and walking out the front door of the shop when the door closed on one of my bag straps. I immediately snapped whiplashed backwards, smacked the back of my head against the door and managed to embarrass myself not only to those inside, but those outside too. Needless to say, I'm going to Second Cup from now on.

After my first class, I decided to swing by the Apple Store to pick up a new set of ear buds, since the left one decided to conk out on me. This is pretty much the first time I ever went here, so I didn't really know what I was in for. All I can say is, Apple Store employees are some of the most miserable fucking people EVER. At least, the fucker I got. Seriously, I was looking for the ear phones on the big ol' wall of accessories when this guy came over and asked me in the most exhaustive tone ever "Can I HELP you?"

So I just told him I was looking for the ear buds, and he made this big show of pointing them out, and then bringing them over to the register. You'd think with the sheer amount of ennui he put into it, I had just walked in and asked him to build me a custom Mac from scratch using paper clips and tape. Seriously, get over yourself. It's Apple for fuck's sake, let it go.

And just to cap off my day of fuckery most foul, on the way home from class, I got a call from Granny Chick. As the resident baker of the family, I'm the one she goes to when she needs cookies. Anyways, since there really isn't a good way to make this sound not completely crazy, here's the general conversation we had.

Me: Hello?

Granny Chick: Hello, Jeremy! How are you?

Me: Can't complain, you?

GC: Oh I'm fine, thank you. Now, I need you to do me a small favour.

Me: Oh, sure thing. What do ya need?

GC: Oh, you're a good lad, Jeremy. I was wondering if you could make some cookies for my hooker party.

Me: (Momentary pause to process what my 80-year old grandmother just said) I'm sorry, you're what?

GC: My hooker party. I'm having some friends over this weekend, and we're going to be hooking rugs.

Me: Oooooh. Yeah, you probably could have picked your words a little better there, Grandma.

Oh, how I love my 80-year old Hooker Grandma. Anyways, I'll play you out with this fucking awesome video for The New Pornographers' "Mutiny, I Promise You". Cheers!