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The Frazzledom… It Continues

Y’all get a bonus dose of my neuroticism today! I meant to spend this last waking hour working on a work thing but APPARENTLY Windows Movie Maker files don’t transfer between computers, so instead it’s blog-whining and hopefully making it into the office early (whine).

OK, first, semi-related, in case there are readers out there who are DC-based and dabble in the administrative arts, let me tell you about the piece of knowledge which will be a game-changer for your world.  The best kept secret in this town is that there is a super secret NINE P.M. UPS pick-up on L Street between 19th and 20th.  GOD BLESS THE 9:00 PM UPS PICK UP.  Seriously.  Look for the liquor store on said block, walk back the alley next to it, you will find a UPS loading dock with a flock of very kind gentlemen more than happy to throw your shipment on the outgoing truck.  I swear on Chooch’s life that is the absolute truth and not an internet scheme wherein I collaborate with bad guys to lure you into an alley by a liquor store.

After my emergency UPS run I simply could not bear the thought of spending another hour trying to get home via my usual commute.  (Plus I was hysteric thinking of poor Chooch who hadn’t been out in 9 hours).

(Is it possible for me to write A PARAGRAPH without bringing up the darned dog? NO.  OBVIOUSLY.)

Do you ever reach that level of frazzledom where money is no object and you would pay $4,961 to make your life easier for 5 minutes? That was me tonight.  I indulged in a massive diva move and hailed a cab to transport me home.

Omigod my brain was so frazzled by that point.  All I wanted was to tell the person my intersection and space out for 10 glorious minutes.  Except I get into the car and first the guy is like “You can get in but I don’t have any change!!! Ahahaha!!” He didn’t actually laugh me.  He was very professional.  But in that moment, my brain believed that the Universe was speaking through him and the message was 1) How about next time you be less lazy, you imbecilic slug and 2) AHAHAHAHA!

Eff.  See above statement.  This was going to be a $20 joy ride and I was OKAY with that.  THEN I give the guy my intersection and Little Mister says “OK, so I just take the Memorial bridge?”

I DON’T KNOW DUDE! This is why I pay you the big bucks! OK, obviously, I know how to get home but I cannot tell you how worthless my brain was at that moment.  I mean, my brain is generally worthless when it comes to directions.  This is my NINTH year living here and these are the places I can drive to without getting lost: home, my office, the zoo, GW, and The Mecca Known As the Shopping Center Where Target and Michaels Live.

As a rule, I just assume any given cab driver knows everything or at least, like, 100 times more than I do.  Like, if I got into the car and a Ficus Tree was driving it would know more than I do.  So when he inquired about the bridge I was sort of just like “Uhhhhhh yea sure.”  Honestly I cannot keep track of DC bridges.  They all have like 3 names.  It’s such crap.  Here is how they are categorized in my mind:

Roosevelt Bridge=The one on the left
Key Bridge= The traffic-y one
Memorial Bridge=The one with the lion statues
14th Street Bridge=The one on the right
South Capitol Street Bridge=OH GOD OH GOD U TURN NOW

So, of course, he took a weird turn and immediately I knew I consented to the wrong stupid bridge. (The one with the lion statues is not the one that takes me home.  EFF YOU LIONS!).  Whatever.  It was a flat rate anyway.

The story doesn’t really have an interesting ending, I’m sorry.  Then I got home and Chooch was so excited he jumped high enough that he BIT ONTO MY HAIR.  Omigod.  (PS I went, like, 3 paragraphs without talking about the dog).

Tummy ache.  Going to sleep.  Becker out!

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