This morning was just like every other morning this week. I parked on the top level of the parking garage and made my way to the elevator that delivers me to my special circle of hell.
Today there was a van parked in one of the handicapped parking spots which is unusual because the handicapped spots on the top level are rarely used.
I noticed that the front tire on the passenger's side was completely flat. The tire was damaged; I could see sort of a tear or something in the side.
I figured that it was likely that the driver wouldn't notice the damaged tire what with it being on the passenger's side and all, so I thought I should leave a note.
Right.
I dug into my purse and with all the bullshit I carry around in that damn thing, there was no pen. And I was not about to walk the 20 feet back to my car and get a pen. It was nearly raining.
I did, however, find some lipstick and a scrap of paper so I made do.
I wrote "Flat Tire" with the lipstick and stuck the note under the wiper.
Wasn't that nice of me?
Yes, I think so too.
Are you interested in all the shit I dug through without finding a pen?
A tampon (sorry, boys).
My glasses case.
Travel Kleenex.
My iPod.
My Smartphone (nothing smart about that damn thing, either. Couldn't leave someone a note about a flat tire, could it? Well, COULD IT?).
Notes from my presentation on Wednesday night.
Recipes.
Shopping list.
My camera. Naturally.
My address book.
My personal calendar.
My wallet.
My check book.
My inhaler (which I have not used for 2 years, but you can't be too careful. Well, CAN YOU?)
CB's spare glasses.
A coin purse (that does not contain coins; it only contains my spare car key.)
Christ. What a load of crap (the stuff in my purse, not this blog entry. Although, if the shoe fits....).
But no pen.
It goes without saying that there's a pen in there now.
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