Reality’s A Bitch

…some days more than others.

Why is it that on the day when you wake up late, are supposed to be in a few minutes early, have a blinding headache, get blocked through two cycles of the stoplight by the fire trucks being parked and blocking traffic on Fallbrook, then get stuck behind some clown who can’t figure out what a freakin’ green left turn arrow means…

(cleansing breath – in through the nose – hold it – …three, four, five – let it out slowly through your mouth – all the way out – squeeze it out – now hold it – …three, four, five)

Why is it that on that morning, reality decides to screw with your brain?

Did anyone else know that Lincoln, one of the premier luxury car models in the United States, the dudes with Matthew McConahey being emo in a tuxedo to pitch their cool and trendy and ever-so-desirable cars, yes that Lincoln — sells a pickup truck?

I spent all day thinking that either I was hallucinating badly (and not one of the good kind of hallucinations) or it had to be some sort of joke, a custom job done by someone with a bizarre sense of humor and more money than God.

Nope.

What’s next? It’s madness, I tell you!