Random Memory #1: The Worst Day Of My Life

I sit here, wanting to write, but unsure of what to write about. I have some unslotted time, and unfortunately, inspiration hasn't made it's way to my brain today.

I think to myself...if I were my readers, what would I want to read about? Still...nothing comes to me. Because, most of my readers don't know me that well, therefore don't know of any of my quirky little life stories that have occurred over the past 29 years. So, I think I'll just take a random memory and go with it. Maybe I'll do a once a week random memory post. Pssht. Yeah right. We all know that when I tell you I'm going to do such a thing that it never actually works out that I follow through with it. Something always happens where I end up not writing about whatever I told you I'd write about and I end up with something else instead.

So, here's my shot at Random Memory Tuesdays. It probably won't catch on like the wildfire that is HNT, but we can try anyways...right?

The Worst Day of My Life

It began at approximately 2:30 am. There's a knock on the sliding patio door. I stumble to the door, tripping over toys and the cat to see who the hell is knocking at this God-Forsaken hour.
At the door is Emily, my little brother CJ's girlfriend of several years. She's bawling her eyes out. I said "Em...what's going on? Come in. What do you need?" Through sobs, she tells me that my brother, after leaving a crackhouse, got pulled over and after the officer executed a search on the little dumbass, found an "eight-ball" in his pocket. They took him to jail, and she doesn't know what to do. She said that his arraignment would be in the morning, and wanted to know if she could stay at my house until then. No problem. I'd be interested in chewing a piece of his butt as soon as possible as well.

The more I think about this, the more pissed I got. At 3:30am, I call Uncle Jimmy to give him a piece of my mind. He never got a word in through my rant. "You SONOFABITCH. Is THIS how you decide to take care of Cj? By putting him in touch with your contacts for CRACK?! You miserable piece of shit? You just wait until I tell my dad about this. You're done. Done. In case you're wondering what all this is a-fuckin-bout, Cj got pulled over tonight leaving one of your little buddy's houses and was found carrying crack. Crack! He's still a kid for crying out loud."

The conversation closes by him trying to defend himself and me slamming the phone down in his ear.

The next morning, I get dressed, get Alex dressed (He was 1 1/2 or 2 at the time) and head with Emily to the Justice Center for Cj's arraignment. Alex is acting up, so I send Emily in ahead of us into the courtroom, while me and Alex wait in the hall. So, Cj is in the courtroom, learning that he's going to get an assload of probation time for his indescretion, and meanwhile, I'm chasing Alex around in the hallway.

There are a series of doorways that lead into small conference rooms in the Justice Center outside of the courtrooms. These rooms are used for lawyer/defendant meetings etc. Well, Alex, went into one and began shutting the door. I scream "Alex! No!" and proceed on a dead run for the door that I am sure will lock once it's shut. I get just to the door, it slams shut and my ankle turns, all the way over, with boots with a 2 inch heel on them. So, now, my son is locked in a room (at least I think he's locked in there, I can't really remember if it truly was locked or not) and I'm howling on the floor in some serious pain, attracting all sorts of attention. I beg Emily to take Alex so I can go to the ER.

I go to the ER and, as I thought, it's broken. I spend a good 4-5 hours there, while we're messing around with that. All this time, I still have no idea what's happened with Cj and if he's really going to stay in jail or what's going to happen. They prescribe me some decent pain killers, and discharge me.

I go home, to find Emily and Cj at my apartment with Alex. Cj needs a ride to work because his license is now suspended. Cj's full of fun little comments about his being a criminal. This was the first real time he got in a lot of trouble. Before this, it was always minor stuff. He asks me if I can drive him. Of course I want to drive an hour away. It was my right ankle that's broken, aka - the gas foot. I was so excited, I wanted to strangle him.

So, we go. For the entire ride I hear about how he didn't KNOW it was a crack house. Of course he didn't. The crack has a life of its own and somehow thought he'd be a good target to ride home with.

I drop him off at his job, and head back for Battle Creek.

Once I arrived in Battle Creek, I decided to stop at Rite-Aid to get my pain script filled. This should have been an uneventful spot in this fucked up day. But...not to disappoint...

After I get the script, I hobble back out to the van. I notice something amiss from the door of the pharmacy. There is a dent, and a new color all down the side of the van. I get to the van, and find a yellow car (who knows what kind) has hit my vehicle. All down the passenger side of the van there is a long strip of yellow. No note or anything. Normally, this would have me hoppin' pissed mad, but on this particular day...I found it funny. Absolutely hysterical.

I go home. Crawl in bed, take a pain killer and think the day is over. Oh, silly, silly me.

Little while later, I hear the slider open and close. In walks the love of my life. Before we go any further, I want to make sure we all know that I'm not re-telling this story to make him feel guilty about this day, which I know he does. He's a self proclaimed pig, he's sarcastic, he's funny...and I love all these things about him. I'm retelling this story because it's funny. All of it, even his part of it.

So, in he walks. He comes in and snuggles with me a bit. He asked how my day went. I laugh. I proceed to tell him how the day had unfolded, and as I told him, I actually saw the humor in all of it. Until...

He stands up, abruptly and says "You're life is entirely too fucked up for me. I'll call you." And out he walks.

I waited, and waited, thinking he was kidding, for him to come back. At one point, I even got up and went into the kitchen thinking he was hiding in there, waiting to execute the punch line. I opened the door to the hall of the apartment complex...no one there. I look down the sidewalk at the back door slider to not see his SUV. I sat there, a little stunned and said outloud..."What the fuck?!"

So, I go back in and lay down on the couch reflecting on the day. What the hell had I done to deserve this karma?! Was I paying for things I would do later? Like, karma in advance?

I fell asleep in tears. I don't know how long I slept for, but was awakened again by a knock on the slider door. I'm thinking that he's come back to execute that punch line I had been waiting for. Like he had just wanted to give me time to get spooked about it. I was wrong. Uncle Jimmy pokes his head in. "You sleepin'?" I groggily sit up to look at him, glare, and slam my head back down on the throw pillow.

I asked him what he wanted. He (and his buddy...Hightower, they call him ((nice))) came to see how I was doing...they had heard from my brother what happened, and he wanted to continue the conversation we had the night before at 3:30am about how he was responsible for screwing up my brother's life.

I begged him to go away, that I just wasn't up for this conversation now. I told him what all had happened that day, and ended with how the guy I was supposed to marry just told me pretty much that we were done.

He plugged on anyways and gave me one of those "High Moral Standards" speeches that I so love. Finally, I get him out of my apartment.

It's after midnight at this point, and I decide to take another pain killer. So, I go to my desk where I had put them (and where my uncle's buddy had been sitting the entire time he was there) and found that they were missing. No where to be found.

To top the entire day off...my uncle's SOB friend, stole my damn pain killers.

How's that for a day? LOL

Just FYI...the said love of my life ended up calling me a few days later and we worked it out. And, I can't really say I blame him for feeling the way he did about the day. It was, afterall, the worst day of my life.