Maybe things are looking up...

I talked my way out of a parking ticket this morning.

See, when I stop at my Starbucks on the way to work each day, I technically park illegally, in that I never put money in the parking meter. I'm only there a couple of minutes - usually - and I've never seen a parking control officer* on that street at that time of day.

Until today. When everything inside Starbucks was moving at a glacial pace -- the customers, the workers, my brain. After finally getting my delicious Venti Soy No Water Chai (hi, fussy much? at least I don't order them extra hot...), I walk out to find a PCO behind my car, entering my license plate number into her handheld Satanic ticket-issuing computer device.

I approached her with a smile and asked, "Would it do me any good if I left right now?" Because really, I deserved the ticket.

She stopped, looked at me, hesitated, and said, "You know what? I'll void the ticket because you're being civil." She then looked at a car behind mine, whose driver apparently wasn't, and said she'd have to pretend to give me a ticket while he was still there, because she didn't void his.

So all I got was an empty envelope, and some reinforcement that playing nice has its rewards.

And then I got my ass kicked in hula tonight. Not only have we not had class for a couple of weeks, I've barely moved during that time, because I've been so sick. And I'm still not completely free of chestal crud. HOLY CRAP, tonight was tough. I got winded much sooner than I should have, and my thighs, hips, and calves are screaming at me.

But it was so good to be back. I've missed it so much. I'm tired of feeling like a lifeless, atrophying lump. I've missed my Kumu and my hula brothers and sisters.

And tomorrow, after work, I might actually have the time and energy to do exciting things like shop for a calendar! Go grocery shopping! Put my laundry away! Pick up some of this crap that's all over my apartment!

I really need a wife, you know. I can't manage my own life anymore, especially when I get sick.


*i won't call them meter maids... especially since mine was so nice.