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What else can go wrong?

Ivana Pelisek | Interrobang | Opinion | January 19th, 2009



Editorial opinions or comments expressed in this online edition of Interrobang newspaper reflect the views of the writer and are not those of the Interrobang or the Fanshawe Student Union. The Interrobang is published weekly by the Fanshawe Student Union at 1001 Fanshawe College Blvd., P.O. Box 7005, London, Ontario, N5Y 5R6 and distributed through the Fanshawe College community. Letters to the editor are welcome. All letters are subject to editing and should be emailed. All letters must be accompanied by contact information. Letters can also be submitted online by clicking here.
I'm driving home after a weekend visit with my parents. I'm driving steadily in your vehicle just like any other morning, listening to my favourite CD when all of a sudden two police cruisers come to a halt on the very highway that is supposed to get me home; just in time for work.

As the uniformed officers proceeded to stop the oncoming traffic, a large number of vehicles slowly had to make their exit on the ramp. Keep in mind this was an exit I have not gone on before, but thinking how lucky I am to have a great GPS on my side to get me home on time. The minute I enter the top of the ramp, a huge decision needs to be made. Do I go left or right? The highway at this point is completely blocked off for god knows how many miles, so I made a rash decision to follow other cars, thinking they must be going in the same direction as I. I believe I went right and continued to follow this one particular car for quite a while, convinced he was also heading the same direction as myself.

The GPS I so heavily rely on for all my road endeavors has failed to comply with me and decided to stop working. Being in an area, which was very unfamiliar to me got me thinking if I was in fact heading in the proper direction and not completely wasting my gas. I drove through fields and forests and finally ended up on a normal clearly marked road. I was back on the highway heading home; finally.

The roads were covered in snow and slush from all the traffic traveling west bound making my windshield particularly filthy. I turn on my wipers getting rid off some of the debris, so I can at least see somewhat where I am going. At last the windshield was clean and my attempt to shut off my wipers did not work. In the past my car has endured this one problem where the wipers don't like to shut off. Here I am driving, trying to get home and I am unable to shut off the wipers. For the continuation of my journey I drove with my wipers on full speed.

I make it home at last. What is typically not even a two-hour drive from home, somehow took almost three and a half hours to do; what a great journey.

As I pull up into the parking lot at my high-rise apartment building, I cannot wait to get inside and start unpacking. I open the door to my neatly kept apartment and walk into the bathroom. I turn on the faucet to find the water coming out is spitting and yellow. I call my super to find out what the problem is and I was assured the problem should not persist one hour. At this point I was already late from my long and wonderful journey on my morning drive that I did not have more time to spare. A major pipe in the building broke therefore no one in the complex had any hot water. Needless to say I skipped my routine shower that morning and proceeded to get ready for work anyway.

Already late I thought what the hell I could at least make a cup of coffee for the road.

With my travel coffee mug in hand I headed out the door. I pulled away from the lot thinking can my day get any better. Please? Indeed it surely did get better.

I am almost at work when an obscenely large truck decided to cut me off causing me to not only yell out profanities, but also almost collide with oncoming traffic. I finally arrived at work, parked and went inside the building.

I was sitting at my desk when I realized I have forgotten my coffee mug in my vehicle.

You know what, I am going to quit the complaining here, and admit that this was just one of those mornings that don't occur, thankfully, all that often, but when they do don't get surprised if all you want to say is ‘fuck.'
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