There really wasn’t anything going on in my little corner of the universe for New Year’s Eve. Mary and I went out to dinner, watched the worst band ever play to a fleeting audience at the O.P., and then strolled around Ballard until the rain forced us back home. We did stay up long enough to watch the opening volley of the Spaceneedle’s fireworks display and some of the Twilight Zone marathon on TV. All in all it was low key, and that was fine.
Getting up a little later than usual, upon leaving the house we were immediately confronted with the realization that my car had been stolen during the early morning hours. “Where’s your car?” Mary repeated.
That all sounds pretty fucked up, huh? It’s not that bad. I mean, it is, but it’s not. No, this is not the way that I really wanted to start off 2005. I don’t want to over dramatize this, but I’m (obviously) struggling to get my footing. It is not the car being stolen as much as the irony. Considering that I’m supposed to start my first day back at school on Monday, I’m finding the associated complications far too tangible to ignore. My thought is under assault and I don’t want to look at things from my present perspective. I want to being happy, tossing this mess back to the dust where it belongs.
Oh, well. I know that this isn’t the end of the world or anything. At least it makes for an interesting story.
