F.U.C.T.

“The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”
~ Robert Burns

“Here I sit, brokenhearted,
Paid a dime, and only farted.”
~ Bathroom Wall Graffiti

In the beginning there was The Plan, and The Plan was Good. The Plan was well thought-out, efficient, possibly some of my best work ever. Unfortunately, God has a sense of humor. I’m sitting in my dad’s truck as I write this. I’m getting nothing done. NOTHING. Zip. Zilch. Ixnay on the ccomplishmentay. FUCT. Mind you, I have actually taken the day off work to accomplish this grand nothingness. (Sorry, Boss.) The ultimate joke was on me.

Sure, there were the usual delays, a mix-up or two, all of which I was prepared for. You have to build those things into any good The Plan or you will fail before you even begin. I did not figure in the fact that I didn’t have my wallet – that oh-so-necessary holder of credit cards, ATM cards, and the critical driver’s license. Nor did I figure in the possibility that I would not discover that said wallet was missing until the truck’s gas tank was virtually empty, and I was far away from both my home and the huge farm house that I have only three days left to empty completely. And did I mention that my husband and the aforementioned wallet are currently keeping an appointment 45 minutes away from where the truck and I sit?

Kishelle, you win. Karma just beat me senseless. 🙂

4 thoughts on “F.U.C.T.

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