Hast thou forsaken me?
So, I've hit a run of bad luck lately, and I'm wondering if it has anything to do with my recent tirade against the church.
It started out innocently enough. The auction company I work for had a sale last week in Atascadero, which is about 4 hours north of LA. (As a side note, my Latino boyfriend informed me that Atasacedro literally translates in Spanish to "covered in mud," so I guess that should have been a tip off.
On the drive up, I called my friend Diann, who had adopted a cat two days before. The cat had been showing some signs of sickness, and she had been worried. She told me that the cat had died last night or an insanely contagious disease that can be spread by humans to other cats. I had petted her cat when she got him, and so spent the rest of the weekend in a tizzy about my own cats, home alone. (Later, Diann apologized for being so alarmist; in reality, the likelihood that I would have passed something to my own cats was about a gazillion to one.)
So, I get up to my hotel, which was the one cool part of the weekend. I was staying at the Marguerite room at The Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo. Awesome place, with winding turrets and thematically decorated rooms. I wanted to stay in the Caveman Room but it was too expensive for business.
Anyway, moving on. While there, I promptly lost my wallet and pulled my back out. There's nothing more I can say about those two things that would convey the utter horror and pain-in-the-assness of the situation. Except for the fact that, the next morning, I also suffered intense intestinal difficulties.
After getting back home, I received a call from a company saying that someone had tried to buy a bunch of stuff with my credit card with them. The company gave me the jackass's phone number, but all I got was an answering machine. So, I passed it on to my FBI brother.
All in all, a joyful weekend.