Bad Diary Days

Today is one of those days when I should have immediately crawled back into bed after getting up. I'm actually lucky that I woke up in the first place, considering my alarm did not go off. I use my cellphone as my alarm, and I woke up at 7:10 (the alarm was set for 7 a.m.) to find that my cellphone's screen had mysteriously frozen in the middle of the night, rendering it useless. Thanks, Verizon.

But, no big deal, right? I woke up on my own, so I was set for the day...so I thought. It turns out my hairdryer tried to kill me died. I've had several warning signs that it was on its way out, but apparently I am dumb enough to keep using the hairdryer after it a)blew the circuit in my bathroom multiple times, and b)threw a spark onto the bathroom rug (luckily not in my hair). I guess it's a good rule of thumb to not point appliances at your head if they are emitting flames and/or sparks.

So, I had to let my hair air-dry, and by the time it was somewhat dry I didn't have time to fix it, and it's too short to go into a ponytail. The result is what I like to refer to as the "shaggy teen boy 'do." I freaking look like Zac Effron.

Actually, I wish I looked like Zac Effron. He has better hair and is way prettier.

I really look more like this:

Still, not a big deal. I'm married so I'm allowed to neglect my appearance, right? That's the great thing about being married; you can look like complete shit and still have someone hot to sleep with.

Here's where it starts to become a big effing deal. I decided to mix it up a bit by spilling hot coffee on my lap. Nothing says "good morning" like a scalding beverage on your genitals. Fortunately I didn't get much coffee on my shirt, and was able to change pants and make it work work only 5 minutes late. But I have no coffee. Should I break my Coke-fast and get a nice cold one from the vending machine? I haven't had a Coke since Sunday, and I think it would really help turn around this shitty excuse for a day.

**update**

I tried to get a Coke from the machine, and it ate my fucking money, and I have no other cash to feed it. I guess it wasn't meant to be. And I'm pretty sure my Mormon boss heard me call it a "piece of shit vending machine."