What's with him???? (a recap of a 24 hour-long series of unfortunate events)

-4:55 p.m., Wednesday  
Pull my Oldsmobile into an empty parking spot in Beachside Village, get out, enter apartment, determined to go on 6 mile run.
-5:00 p.m.
     Private investigator (think Burt Reynolds) shows up on my door.  
     So we’ve found you,” he smiles, handing me a paper.  I grimace.  “We were told you’d left!” he chirps.  “Something about no address, because you were roaming around the country in a van.  Well… consider yourself served.”
     I look down at the papers in my hand.  An official subpoena for the stabbing at the Port Prozac Pier last year… again.
5:05-midnight
     I lie on the couch, drowning in R. Nixon Elementary Depression, mixed with Subpoena grief.  I drink a total of 7 alcoholic units, only moving from the couch to use toilet.
6:45 a.m., Thursday
     I glare out from underneath my covers at the sunlight.  I have a horrible pit in my stomache.  Today will not be a good day, I decide.
7:40 a.m.
     I get into my car and turn the key.
     Absolutely fucking nothing.
     I realize I left the headlights on, and the battery is dead.
7:45
     I am pumping the gas pedal, swearing, screaming, crying, beating steering wheel of my V.W. van, trying to get it started.  It has not been started since July 30th, due to the fact that it DOESN’T FUCKING DOWNSHIFT ANYMORE DUE TO VERY LEAKY HYDROLIC CLUTCH.  
     It finally putters to life.
     I take a deep breath, and wrestle it into reverse.
7:55
     Arrive at school parking lot in stunned shock regarding death-defying trip in which I cannot downshift, therefore making it known through horn and waving that I have the right of way, or else….

9:15
     Use only planning period of the day to call distraught desperate housewife on phone to assure her that her son will be fine this year (as long as she keeps up with his homework).

4:00
     Experience another death defying trip over the causeways to Port Prozac from Manic Island.  Am followed by coworker, Content Carrie, armed with jumper cables.

4:15
     No success…. car refuses to be jumped.

4:20
     Still no success.
4:25
     Fuck, I have to be to tutoring at the library at 4:30 for a session with Jared the Jerk.
4:30
     Content Carrie’s fiancé gives us advice over phone- Go to 7-11 and buy coke, pour it over connections.  Carrie points out that we need to go to 7-11 anyways… her car is almost out of gasoline.
4:32-
     I call Jared the Jerk’s parents and tell them to cool their jets for half an hour- car trouble!
4:45-
     Carrie and I give up… fuck my stupid car.. the battery is so fucking weak it can’t be jumped.
5:00
     Content Carrie drops me off at library.  I thank her for being so great.  She says it’s all good… she’s fine- she’s content!
5:01-6:01-
     Scream at Jared the Jerk for cheating on his Math tests.  Jared the Jerk isn’t happy- he was personally reprimanded by Mr. Collins (eeks!).
6:06
     I was dropped off by Jared the Jerk’s father at my apartment, and promptly called Merry Mel to come get me to go buy a battery with the last of my money.
7:30-10:30
     Battery-changing chaos.  Tools lost deep inside black hole of car (located underneath motor where no light reaches)- 2
10:30- well after midnight
     Good times with Mel, laughing over previous 24 hour streak of bad luck.  We celebrate with food, drinks, My Name is Earl, and of course, we spy via blog on a transsexual she used to date (when she was a man).  We laugh our heads off at his funny bloggings, and laugh even harder at the fact that he stole Merry Mel’s shoe.  Too bad, she said it was a very pretty pink pump!

And all is well (besides horrible sequel of subpoena starting all over again)