More fuel for the fire

Things were looking up for a minute there.  It was a good weekend, I got lots of sleep.  I made an appointment for someone to come finish my bathroom floor Wednesday morning. (they'd better fucking show up)  I went and bought lots of happy, clothes and a wine rack.  All kinds of shit, crazy on sale.  All over the neighborhood.

So yeah, I thought things might be on an upswing, I thought my mood might be about to improve, then I got a phone call last night informing me that the bicycle I left in New Orleans had been stolen.

Moth-er-FUCK-er.

I LOVED that fucking bicycle.  We went everywhere together.  FUUUCK.

This is the only picture I have.  I took it with my phone when I brought it home:

                


Now I have no fucking transportation when I visit.  Fantastic.  This is getting better and better.

It's quite a feeling, being fucked over in absentia.  I wasn't in the same zip-code, wasn't even in the same TIME ZONE.  And still?

I don't even know what else to say anymore.