Rachel's no good very bad day

Well, it started off looking like it could be a somewhat good day.
I mean, there were no particularly bad signs--there was hot water.
I for once, was not completely behind schedule and snoozed only for 3 minutes on top of the mandatory 15.
When I drove to work, I rocked out to Hole's "Awful" which--hello, "Celebrity Skin" is a fucking great album...where was I when this came out? probably pulsing my finger to some DJ of the moment.....anyway-not the point.
The point is--there were no signs-dude it was pay day. Nothing bad happens on pay day!
I got to work.
I poured coffee.
I drank said coffee.
I did my AM routine.
Then the unraveling began--
Rach we need you to do a spreadsheet---beat
a spreadsheet with 622 rows--beat
from these---beat
3 thick piles of paperwork are thrown down with a dramatic thud
did I mention that I have done said spreadsheet in 1 way or another 3 times?
also that I am NOT A SECRETARY, I'm sorry, I'M NOT AN ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT! But I am a girl who can type--so I guess that's the next best thing.
that wasn't even the bad part--like I said--it was the unraveling.
I feverishly texted my PIC for support.
Text received--support given--along with X's and O's and a take the high road, we have a 3 day weekend ahead.
One thing that I promised I would do today was get an oil change.  It's been far too long and the light decided to remind me that if I didn't do something soon, the engine was going to give up "POOF" then die.  Thank God there's a handy, dandy place on the corner.  After resigning to my Excel fate, I excused myself to lunch.  The plan was this: I was going to hit Rite-Aid, grab tampons, go across the street for McDonalds-its true, I eat crappy bad fast food once a month--do I need to explain more than that? didn't think so.
Then after picking up the delicious McDonalds, I would drive to the corner and walk back to work.
Ready-
Set-
Go-
Rite Aid--check, I left with supplies and a couple Cadbury Creme Eggs which I can not resist, as well as a peanut butter egg for good measure.
McDonalds--check. Filet Fish, super sized fries, small chicken selects with hot mustard, and an ice tea.  I literally just pour that hot mustard over everything--its divinity in my book.
Car Shop--check. Dropped off, keys handed over.
Now if I would have just stopped there.  Enjoyed my food. Took a different route--my day could have been something completely different than it was.
But I didn't-
so it wasn't--
Walking my way back to the office, I noticed a guy sifting through the trash.  I didn't think much of it, it's Hollywood--you see that sort of thing all the time.  Usually said person isn't the one that comes to your rescue after---
THUD!!
the eyelets on your boots hook into eachother and rip your feet from underneath you causing you to fall flat on your delicious McDonalds, spilling fries, ice tea, leaving you a human puddle on the ground.

Luckily the natural reaction to falling is putting your hands out or else I would have broken my nose.
Instead, I bloodied my palms, ripped my favorite pair of jeans (DAMMIT!), ripped up my knee, smashed my filet a fish, and I just laid where I fell.
After my brain settled and the reality started coming into focus, I looked around and well--
cried.
The garbage wrangler guy ran over asking me if I was ok. I was still down and sobbing but out of the corner of my eye I saw 1 Cadbury Creme egg, in perfect condition, rolling on the cement.  I took that egg and held it tight. At least one of us made it unharmed. If I could have laid there and just been left alone, I would have.  Being sprawled out felt much better than trying to pick myself back up.
But with the help of the sweet homeless guy, I did get up.  And you know what he said to me?
"Don't you worry honey, don't be embarrassed." Dammit, why don't I ever have cash?
I just nodded and he went back to his business.  Limping back to the office, carrying a half torn, now muddy Mcdonald's bag- I must have been a sight to see.
My sunglasses miraculously stayed on--no idea how this happened--so I ducked into the office without anyone seeing my red rimmed eyes.  It was Chris, our deliverables guy who discovered me first.  I was practicing a brave face, but as soon as he came in I just burst out into tears and pointed to my knee.
"Oh my god your knee!" then I pointed to my hand....
"Oh my god your hand!".  Who says we ever grow up when it comes to injuries?
Damn skinny jeans--damn my favorite pair of skinny jeans--it was next to impossible rolling those bad boys up.  He ran to the 1st aid kit, grabbed bandages, tape, guaze, and alcohol (we have a surprisingly amazing 1st aid kit!) and started dabbing, wrapping, I was still crying.  My boss came in, the tears rained a little harder.  I think I cried more in that hour than I have in well, months.
After getting all fixed up. Life resumed back to normal for about 15 minutes.
Then the garage called----
"honey--you need some serious front brakes replaced."
Of course I do--why wouldn't I?
I quietly went through my day. The story of the days events getting funnier and funnier every time.
I canceled Kick Boxing.
I figured that staying in for the night was my best option for survival.
That and well, I couldn't really walk.
But when I got home, I received my information on my tax return.
My goal of debt free by my next birthday is a reality.
I did it.
So all that crazy suckage that was my day---well----lets just say, February 17th, 2011 ended on a high note.