Panic

So. Yesterday. Hrm.

You may have caught a few glimpses of how things were progressing on Facebook and Twitter.

I’ll sum up the events of the day in case you don’t want to wade through what is sure to be rather hysterical by saying this: the day was not a good one. And I have nobody to blame but myself, which just makes it worse (it’s always better when you can blame SOMEBODY else!)

The day started off innocuously enough. A bit rainy, a bit trafficky, but nothing I couldn’t handle. After all, I had started my day with toast smothered in Dark Chocolate Dreams so it couldn’t be that bad, right? Er, wrong.

Let’s start with the part where I am an idiot, and ventured out into the drizzle and rain (umbrella-less, of course, because only a sensible person would have brought an umbrella with them) to meet my dear friend Lizzie for lunch. We were all set to try a brand spankin’ new pizza place in Chinatown called District of Pi which I was obviously excited for, since I was willing to trudge through the doldrums to get there, haha. Of course, since this is me we’re talking about, upon arriving I was forced to come to the horrifying realization that we aren’t meeting for lunch until tomorrow.

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Womp. Womp.

Unwilling to shuffle my shame back to the metro and get even MORE wet (although at this point that probably wasn’t really possible), I took a cab back to the office in an attempt to run away from my own stupidity. But okay, I felt moronic and looked like a drowned rat, but all in all it wasn’t the worst thing. I was still in a mildly elevated mood, minus the being cold and wet thing, and the day was over halfway done at this point.

Enter my journey home.

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I’ve told you in the past how I don’t really like to drive. Blame it on the fact that I’m young, or that other people like crashing into me (they really do!), or that I’m a half-Asian woman driving a car with the turning radius of a military tank, but I just don’t really dig it. That being said, I have been driving to work lately because I discovered that A) it’s easy to drive to my office and B) the metro is so fracking expensive ($9 a day really adds up!)

Of course, the only reason I don’t actually mind driving is because my office is literally right across the street from the 395 ramp. The entirety of my commute is spent on the highway, and not trying to make sure I don’t turn the wrong way down a one-way street with tiny signs and stoplights on the side of the road instead of overhead. Yeah, I don’t really dig “regular” DC driving.

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So I’m sure you can all imagine my absolute delight when I learned that the massive amount of rain that has already half-ruined my day, has also flooded the highway and backed up traffic at my exit up the wazoo so I couldn’t even turn onto it. My boss had told me that there’s another on-ramp just up the street a little ways, so I headed in that direction to try to make my way back to the highway. I think you can imagine what happened next.

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What ensued was an hour of silently freaking out as I managed to get myself more and more lost in the streets of DC. Somehow I made my way from L’Enfant Plaza to the Mall, to Dupont Circle, to the weird little sideroad that follows alongside the Kennedy Center, all the while crushing my iPhone in my hand as I begged the Maps app to save me. Somewhere in my third traffic circle, I started tearing up (expected), hyperventilating (unsurprising), and shaking (unexpected). I couldn’t stop driving though — where was I going to pull over? — and somehow I finally made it back to a recognizable road.

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I pulled into my driveway and literally burst into tears, hahaha. Let’s just say I’ve never been so happy to see this face:

Wisdom

I really thought that the day’s chain of sucky events was going to send me tailspinning into a binge of epic proportions, but surprised even myself when I didn’t. Maybe I really am growing up. Instead of burying my crummy day in Baconators, I cuddled extra long with the dogs, took a real shower (since I’m not sure that being rainsoaked quite counts), and then made myself some “comfort” food:

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Still tweaking the recipe on this one, but my efforts resulted in a warm, creamy bowl of pasta which is just what I needed to nurse my emotional wounds a little.

Now if only the sun would come out.