Da Tribulashuns

Sometimes I am, like most people, not the most mature person in the world. Sometimes, I lose perspective and really the only remedy for it is to laugh at myself in the end.

Sometimes, however, it also seems as if nothing can go right, as if you are participating in your very own comedy of errors. Such was my morning Romanship.

It all started out very well. I had my first training session in about six weeks and I was in surprisingly fine form. The last time I worked out, I was just about to go on vacation and still recovering from the relentless pace of the last few months. I didn't do very well in the sense that everything was an absolute struggle.

But today, I was back to normal, hitting my target heart range without too much difficulty but still breaking a sweat. My weights portion was tough, but I muddled through.

So I was getting ready for work, feeling good about my workout and looking forward to getting into the office a bit early and getting ahead of the game a bit. It was at this point I realized that I hadn't packed my top for work, just my pants, underwear and pantyhose.

I toyed for a moment with the idea of just wearing my workout t-shirt. It's not ratty, but a little too figure hugging and frankly I'd just been sweating in it for an hour. The idea of wearing it didn't appeal to me.

My next line of defense was to call the Marine. His cell phone was off. I called the house and got voicemail, left a message then just deleted it because I figured he had already left for work.

What to do? I know! Zipcar! I remembered there was a zipcar in the basement of the building my club is in and another one not even a five minute walk away. I'll just call Zipcar. It will be half the price of a cab to home and back.

Except, it seems you can do everything on the phone with Zipcar except talk to a live human being to book a car. Sure I was able to go through a listing of available cars. Problem was, none of them were remotely near me. I just needed to tell somebody "book me this car at this location" but it was next to impossible.

I know! My club has internet access. I'll just log on and book online.

So I go to the front of the club and explain the situation and the fellow at the desk says no problem and that I can use the one of the trainer computers.

Except zipcar is a restricted website that I can't get access to. I then got back on the phone to Zipcar trying to find a live human being to whom I could speak. It was at this point that my trainer walked by and I admit it, I was starting to freak out a bit. She asked the other trainer if she was done on her computer [which apparently was unrestricted] and she said yes.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to freakout." I said "I just need to accomplish something very simple and it's next to impossible."

Thankfully the other computer worked and in less than a minute I had a car booked.

I dash out of my club and across the huge parking lot by the grocery store. I nearly damage the mini parked next to my car because apparently the driver who previously rented has a waist of twelve inches and didn't need space to get out.

I start hurtling home in the car, the hour of 9 am drawing ever nearer.

Ring ring. It's my cell. The Marine is on the other line.

"Did you call earlier? I was in the basement."

"Yes. I was trying to get a hold of you to ask if you could drop a top off at my work. I forgot it."

"I can do that. Where are you."

"In a Zipcar heading home."

"Oh."

"But if you could drive back with me and drive me to the coffee shop by my office that will easily save me ten minutes."

So I drive home, except the garbage truck is blocking my street. I debate backing up, going around my crescent and turning the opposite way up the one way street my driveway is on but decide against it given the garbage truck will have worked it's way down by then and will be blocking my driveway anyway.

I manage to find a spot on the street close to my house. I dash in, change and we are on our way. I vaguely remember muttering something to the Marine about the grocery store, south parking lot.

We turn onto the main north/south street by my house. The Marine is ahead of me until I get trapped behind.......a street cleaner.

I turn at the light, get caught up with the Marine who takes a short cut through a corner parking lot. I follow only to have it come to nothing as the light changes and the opposing traffic starts coming.

I manage to turn right onto the street, then left onto a side route, catching up, then have to come to a near standstill to get around the handicapped patient transfer van that's parked on the street.

It was at this point that I took a cleansing breath, because like I really want to be the asshole the honks at the handicapped patient transfer van that is taking somebody to, oh I dunno, hospital perhaps.

I finally catch up with the Marine. We need to turn left. He's turning right. I'm waving my hands, honking the horn. He turns. I follow, while getting out my cell phone to call him.

At least I thought I was. Instead I was punching in gobbledeegook. It was at this point that I unashamedly screamed

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCC
CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK
KKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I get the Marine on the phone.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure. Where are we going?"

I tell him. We get there and at last I get the car parked and hop in to our car. The Marine drops me off, I thank him and then get a desperately needed coffee.

Fortunately the rest of the day did not continue on this theme, my PMS remained in check and I gave everyone at the office a good laugh recounting my travails.

I won't even get into how my pantyhose was riding half way down my butt the whole day. LOL