I'm Not Even Superstitious

What can I say about Friday the 13th? I am not a superstitious individual, BUT, it seems that yesterday was just a horrible day. Jeebus, where do I start? Woot for another list:

• Let's start with my morning. I woke up late for work. Already, that's bad.
• At work, I got the come to Jesus lecture from my boss. That was expected.
• At noon, I hopped on my bike to go to lunch. Upon arriving at my lunch destination, I realized that I left my wallet at the office. Hence, I had no lunch.
• The afternoon was already a disaster, so I left work a little early to get something to eat and begin my weekend. Again, I hop onto my bike. There I am, stopped at a red light, and I pull into the intersection to make a right turn. Apparently, there was a pile of fine dirt there and so my rear tire skid and my rear brake locked up, causing Nietzsche to leave me. I laid there staring at asphalt, helpless as Nietzsche left a trail of chrome scrapping in his wake. Several people stopped to help me, but I was able-bodied enough to lift the bike off the street and be on my way home.
• I was supposed to go out last night, but after my mishap, I wasn't in the mood to go out. So I logged into The World of Warcraft to hang out with online friends. I thought I could have one night online with no drama. WRONG! I got into an argument with someone over something stupid, and then logged out. I decided my night was to best spent with the TV and a 12-pack.
• So this morning, I log back into the game to make amends with my friend. Hmm, what's this? I can't log into my account? Son-of-a-bitch, my account has been hacked and my password was changed on me. Some damn hacker went into the game, took all of my characters' money and stripped them all of their armor and weapons. This may seem ridiculous to most of you, but for those who play, you understand how devastating this feels. Oh well, I'll have to wait for the investigation to finish before I get to play again.
• The icing on the cake is my damn 32 year old body. Apparently, the pain from my mishap with Nietzsche delayed itself until today. Yes, folks, I'm a sore mess. Go on, I know you all want to lecture me on how stupid I am, and maybe you are all right.

Oh, and have I said happy Valentine's Day yet? Well, obviously I didn't, because I HATE Valentine's Day. It's a stupid day to remind me that I am alone ... still. Anyway, all my single friends, let's raise the roof in hopes that this weekend isn't totally miserable for all of us. And all my non-single friends, I apologize for my bah-humbuggedness of a post (I totally like my made up word, LoL). Enjoy your weekends with your significant others.

Damn You, Depeche Mode ...

A death in the family always triggers a flood of emotions. My Uncle Honey passed on Sunday, just minutes after his son walked into the hospital room. My Uncle Honey was like a grandfather to me. He and his wife, who I call Gramma Myrtie, lived in "the country" southwest of Little Rock. They are the perfect example of what good country air can do for longevity. Myrt makes the BEST pies, and Uncle Honey was the reason I could never eat a meringue as it was he who convinced me at an impressionable age that the fluffy white stuff was nothing but cow cud. Thanks, Uncle Honey. My heart goes out to Gramma Myrtie.

Memories of July 4th fireworks out in their field and "shooting pool" with Jeannie in their basement come to mind. All the good feelings from those times return. Feelings like that are, of course, followed by sadness that Uncle Honey won't be around to give us his words of wisdom. He was everything I could imagine growing up with a grandfather could be like. Extended family was always a mysterious concept to me. All my other blood relatives, except for an aunt and uncle in Chicago, were in the Philippines. Close friends of the family always stepped in to fill those roles in my life, and Uncle Honey was all I knew of a grandfather. He will be missed, that's for sure.

It's hard not to think about his last moments. He had to have been hanging on, just long enough to get a good glimpse of his son to say farewell. Good god, I know that this is my greatest fear. I wonder, if in my last moments, will I have someone to hang on for? Will there be a loving partner at my side, holding my hand through it all? Crap, what a horrible thought. Nevermind, I'm done thinking about that right now.

Depeche Mode is in my ears. The song "Somebody" off of which Album I can't remember is most appropriate at the moment.