"Someday a boy will fall in love with all my flaws, and he sure will be the lucky one."

Let me tell you why crime doesn't pay, boys and girls. It's a little thing called karma. See, it's just like Earl says, if you do bad things, bad things happen to you. It's a real kick in the ass.

It all started on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I went shopping with my mom to pick out a new swimming pool for Jersey. We picked out several other things that my mom needed to buy as well, including a vacuum cleaner. I shoved the vacuum in the cart, and we piled everything else around it. After paying for it all, I asked the check-out girl if she needed to run the vacuum cleaner box over the desensitizing pad so that it wouldn't set off the doors, which I knew it would. She kinda sneered and said no, the alarm wouldn't go off. But of course, it did. I shoved the cart back over to her and rolled my eyes. (I know you think this is bitchy, but she thought she was so cool teaching the new guy how to ring up items and just dismissed me. So it's her fault.) Anyway, after we finally got back out to the car and started unloading it into the trunk, I noticed an item that wasn't in a shopping bag. I asked mom if we'd paid for it.
Mom: We did now, put it in the bag.
Me: But did--
Mom: Put it in the bag.
Me: But we--
Mom: PUT IT IN THE BAG!!

Hot with shame, I shoved it in the bag and made a beeline for my seat. I was shaking, certain I was going to be arrested at any moment. I demanded that my mom buy me a strawberry shake in which to drown my sorrows. I was sick all night, both from guilt and strawberry shake cramps.

Ah, Monday morning. Still exhausted from a night of tossing and turning, I stumbled to work. The usual crazies annoyed the hell out of me. Then later that afternoon I had a dentist appointment to take care of a cavity. After numbing my gums and tooth, the dentist began drilling. I flinched violently as I could still feel it! "Oops," he said. "Looks like we'll need to numb it some more." Ya think?? So he stabs me about 7 more times with the needle, pressing down painfully on my gums with his thumb to "massage" the novacaine in deeper. He leaves to do whatever dentists do when they leave a room, waiting for me to go completely numb.

Then, just as my tongue feels like a dead slug in my mouth, the dental hygienist, who has been silent up until this point, starts asking me questions. I try to answer without biting my tongue. Then I find out that her oldest brother was in my grade in high school. And I remember that I kicked him savagely in the knee in 9th grade for continually touching me. So now my face is numb, the dentist is drilling my tooth, and I'm trying desperately not to giggle as I replay in my mind an enraged adolescent April kicking a boy in the kneecap.

Then the hygienist is finished with her shift, so the dentist's wife takes over. Everything goes along smoothly. I start sitting up in the chair to get ready to leave, and wifey says, "Your perm looks nice, by the way."

I cringe in horror, start pathetically shaking my head no because I can't speak. She laughs and says, "I know, I'm just teasing you." Take pity on the half-paralyzed face girl, would you?

Later that night, while my face was still numb (I couldn't even feel my ear!), Nikki called to talk to me about the continual drama between her and my brother. I won't go into it. But it was difficult to be nice and carry on a conversation when my tongue lies limply in my mouth. (Attractive, isn't it?)

Tuesday I worked alone at the library, and it was a madhouse. Extremely busy. At one point, I had about 7-8 people lined up at the circ desk, all needing my help and attention. One boy threw a tantrum because I couldn't find him a Loony Tunes movie. And a woman needed me to make a copy of something for her. I told her that the photocopier was down, and she yells, "Don't do this to me!!" So I pushed up my shirt sleeves and fixed the copier. (Basically, I replaced the toner. But whatev. It was dirty.) Then my ex-stepdad walked in. Drunk. Wanting me to fix his mp3 player. He wasn't fall-down drunk, but he still managed to slur his words. And he almost got to the crying point (yes, he's that sort of drunk). Then it was all, "Oh, I don't want to lose you kids." Silence. "But I guess I already did." Der. Anyway, I finally told him that I had work to do and got him to am-scray. Ai yi yi.

Kristen and I talked last night, and I confessed all that had happened. She laughed a lot at my mishaps. "You have to admit," she said, "it is pretty funny."

Later, after I got off the phone, I decided to paint my nails since I haven't done so in months and months. *sigh* Of course, the top fell off of the brush, and I ended up getting polish all over my hand. And foot. Don't believe me?





And my jaw still aches from the dentist's oh-so-tender massage. So take a lesson from Auntie April, boys and girls. Don't go shopping with my mother.