String of Bad Luck

Last night was dinner with old college friends. Of the people we know, it comes down to one of three categories: married, engaged, or babies. It was strange sitting at a table with two married and one soon-to-be married friend. Forced to sit on the sidelines during the "when I picked out my wedding gown...." conversation, I felt like the fourth wheel. Odd woman out. I could practically hear two of them thinking, thank God I found my soul mate and don't have to deal with being single again!

It's especially evident when asked questions such as, "Will we be sitting here while you tell us your wedding plans a year from now?"

Well, let's see...I think a boyfriend may be a prerequisite...

As expected, I was interrogated regarding TheGuy (whom they all know from college), to which I had no definitive response. I've come to learn this triggers a series of questions demanding an affixed label. I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine.

Fortunately, dinner wasn't all talk of ticking maternal clocks. There was plenty of reminiscing about college acts of debauchery and the sort. It's always good to catch up with old friends -- particularly the ones who've seen you at your best and worst.

It proved to be the perfect distraction from my car trouble. So let me backtrack a bit. Before dinner, I'd been killing time at the mall and when I went back to my car, the wheel was locked and the key wouldn't budge in the ignition. Between my dad shouting into one ear over the phone how I needed to manhandle the wheel while jiggling the key in the lock and the boiling temperature inside my vehicle, I was more than frustrated.

Luckily, my friend was nice enough to give me a ride to and from my car for dinner and tried her hand at getting it started, but to no avail. After the meal, she dropped me off at my apartment where I rushed to gather a change of work clothes, makeup, spare car key, and some odds and ends. My dad picked me up and we headed back to my car where he was eventually able to get it started by pushing down on the brake. However, the battery was nearly drained and the car made a horrific screeching sound that echoed throughout the parking ramp. So we left the car and its' unidentified noise overnight and they towed it to our mechanic this morning.

I was stuck driving my brother's car to work today -- how considerate of him to leave the gas tank on 'E' -- delaying my commute by ten minutes, a drastic difference during rush hour. I was somewhat frazzled by the time I finally got to work this morning. No one knows this better than the guy who sits across the room from me, for I said "good morning" to him from the descending side of the staircase as he was on his way up. The next thing I knew, I lost my footing (probably tripped on my hemmed pants) and was going down, down, down as if in slow motion. He managed to catch my left side (pretty sure my shirt flew up a ways and he caught the flesh of my ribcage), preventing me from toppling face-first into the cement stairs. My left knee took the brunt of the fall and my right ankle twisted slightly.

Both are feeling better now, but right after the nosedive of the century, I hobbled from cafeteria to cafeteria in search of a properly functioning ice machine to alleviate the swelling. God I am a clumsy moron. How lovely to know every time he sees me, he will think of me doing a Superman down the stairs. Sheepish feelings aside, I thanked him profusely. That could've been a lot worse.

I just hope my "injuries" don't interfere with marathon training.