Fucking Friday

Fucking Friday. 

I had a day off work today so I made a list of concrete objectives I woke up prepared to achieve. I got a little distracted, as I tend to do, and left the house later than planned forgoing an early morning walk in the rain. About five minutes after leaving the house, while wearing a brand new pair of glasses with an updated prescription I'd never driven with before, I got a little too close to where the white line usually is on the right side of the road and dropped my passenger side wheels about 12 inches in the ditch. I pulled out of it but could already feel damage and, sure as shit, in less than a minute, my right front tire had gone flat. I pulled into an elementary school parking lot, knew I didn't have a spare, so called AAA for a tow. There's a garage about a mile from there so I called them in the meantime and ordered a couple of tires. An hour and a half later, the tow truck arrived. I got my car towed to the garage without further incident. The man said he'd call me when it was ready and nonverbally sent me a message to buzz off in the meantime. 

I walked up the hill to a diner in the center of town where I ate biscuits and gravy with eggs over easy and coffee. She had Fox News blaring on the television which made me forget pretty quickly how good the food was. The poisonous backdrop and soundtrack of rural America. They were talking about illegal immigrants. About how they're here to get comfortable living in the tender care of our Democrat led government. About how their presence here enriches the cartels and takes money out of my white, tax paying, pocket. It was a round table discussion intended to sound spontaneous, but all the well rehearsed, endlessly repeated talking points were driven home over and over. How are we so fucking stupid?

I paid the bill and went to a Dunkin' Donuts close by to kill time and to write in my journal. Two women were talking at a nearby table. One of them was getting the short end of the stick in a divorce from a doctor and she was contemplating whether or not to rat him out for prescribing whatever his "patients" wanted. I judged all parties involved harshly, without mercy, and renounced the world yet again. Just then, about ten hyperactive kids from a local residential treatment center came in with an ineffectual staff person and made me wish I'd never left the house today. Solitude becomes taxing, but this thing among people is not any better. I've forgotten how to be.