When reality slaps you in the face

On the second day living independently in my newly leased apartment, I realized my landlord doesn’t tell me everything…

I woke up on this innocent day getting ready for work, got dressed, and about to take on the day. I walked out the door to anticipate a silver Acura RSX in the same corner I parked it the night prior. Little did I know, the car was essentially…missing. I was then beginning to slowly sink in what was really happening. “Shiiiit” I thought to myself. “I should’ve known my car would get stolen in this dangerous burglar-prone area.” I was in major panic mode, veins pulsating loudly through my numb ears in the wicked cold weather. Unsure of how I was supposed to react, I tried to remain calm. As I wandered aimlessly through the barren parking lot, a large bright red sign popped up in front of my eyes a mere 12 hours too late. “Unauthorized parking will be towed at owner’s expense.” Oh, bull-fucking shit!

So I regretfully woke up my newly be-friended roommate about the surreal nightmare I was facing. She didn’t have a car so she gave me all DART bus and train route information and such. Never in my entire life did I have to exclusively depend on mass transit. Turns out my car has been impounded near Stemmons Fwy and Royal Ln – pretty much the most worn down area in Dallas. I had to take a bus, ride the train and then waaaaalk nearly .5 miles to the specific impound location. That .5 mile walk is an experience I never want to face ever again. I got old scary, unhygienic men winking, whistling and honking their horns at me on the streets. A guy drove by my side going no more than 5 mph, opened his windows and said, “Hey, why don’t you come on in for a ride?” I kindly acknowledge his offer and said no thanks and proceeded forward. The supposed .5 mile walk turned in a 1 mile walk due to inadequate street labeling. I depended on Google maps on my phone to help direct me to the location. Even with that, I was still lost. The battery icon was blinking, my fingers numb, preventing me to use my phone with ease. I was afraid to touch my phone once again because it may shut off at any moment. With much effort, I stared at the dimmed screen reflecting in the bright sunlight and tried to memorize the route as best my mind could handle. This day is just not my day. As I then walked a couple blocks forward, that same guy from before drives in front of me, blocking my path and pleads with me to jump in his car. Out of all days that I carry Mace with me, why didn’t I carry one with me now?

Phew! After the sequence of treacherous events, destination has arrived. I was only able to pay with both a credit card and a debit card because I only have an insufficient X amount of dollars and credit on both cards. The receptionist gave me the inconvenient news that in order for me to use 2 different kinds of cards, I have to pay $6 cash. Wow, I came all the way here risking rape and death and she tells me I have to pay 6 cash to use 2 cards? She was definitely bullshitting me. I wanted to cry. I pleaded and told her my situation. I just threw in 2 crumpled up dollar bills and told her that’s the only cash I have with me. Lacking sympathy, she gave in to my plea. I finally reunited with my RSX. I never missed it so much. On my car ride back to the same place I came from, I was out $180. I was agonizing what happened the first 3 hours of the innocent day I woke up to. I got late tuition fees student loans didn’t pay for, cell phone bills and definitely going to pay back that hundreds of dollars debt I have from my credit card, not to mention rent.

Does god hate me?

The beauty music brings

“Music makes me forget my real situation. It transports me into a state which is not my own. Under the influence of music, I really seem to feel what I do not feel, to understand what I do not understand, to have powers which I cannot have. Music seems to me to act like yawning or laughter; I have no desire to sleep, but I yawn when I see others yawn; with no reason to laugh, I laugh when I hear others laugh. And music transports me immediately into the condition of soul in which he who wrote the music found himself at the time.”

Leo Tolstoy