Finals are stressful enough, right? Especially when you're battling with zero desire to do anything but read Game of Thrones and sprawl out around your house. But you know what, it's Wednesday. All I have to do is finish up a paper (I'm an English major, papers are what I do so no sweat off my back) and then take a final tomorrow morning. I GOT THIS.
So, I take break from my paper writing to begin the pain in the ass that is packing up your car. Lugging all my crap down the stairs, juggling armfuls of stuff and my car keys. So, imagine my surprise when I go over to the driver's side of my car only to find vomit all over the handle and then down the car door. This was done with malicious intent. When you discover vomit in an isolated area, the only area that you yourself would definitely have to touch in order to operate you vehicle, you are the victim of malice.
So, I recoil in disgust and immediately tell the first person I see. My next course of action is to get my car washed. I will not clean someone else's vomit off of my own car. No, no. So I gather my text books that have been sitting in my room, waiting for me to sell them back, and head to the bookstore. I have forgotten my student ID, dammit. Why does one even need one's student ID to sell back books? I mean really. So, I bring up my school page and relay to her my ID number after taking a few tries to type in my Game of Thrones related password. I regret nothing. So after receiving a cool 33 dollars and 50 cents for 6 books I type in car wash into my Garmin to find a place to take care of that vomit sitch. Oh, also, I climbed into the passenger side of my car and then straddled my way over to the driver's side. I did not touch the vomit saturated handle.
I'm cruising now, listening to my Australian accented Garmin direct me (the American lady was snotty, go figure) and she takes me to some sketch-ass place. Not getting my car washed in a place that tells me to go inside and leave my keys in the car, that's how things get stolen. I continue on my way and spot another car wash. I whip into the lot only to see a sign that says "Opening in August." Shit. I'm about to give up when finally I see a normal looking gas station with the kind of car wash I wanted. Finally.
I pull up, am instantly terrified by the video presentation that the Speedway offers (a mother guiding me through choosing my carwash... I did not like it), and select the 8 dollar car wash. I place my brand spankin new Alexander Hamilton in the cash thing and it instantly spits it back out at me. The mom screen blinks: EXACT CHANGE ONLY. Shit. Looks like I'm getting a 10 dollar car wash.
I drive away from my carwash, return home only to find that the vomit has left its orangish residue on my handle. Shit.
Fast forward to later when I'm googling what to do if your friend is bitten by a chipmunk and eating a ice cream sandwich from Insomnia cookies...because I deserve it.