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Things gone south

October 10, 2009 Leave a comment Go to comments

Perhaps it is only fair that a spectacular week be followed by a tremendously sucky one.  I don’t know how karmic balance works, but who does?  But on Monday – the day I was supposed to attend our first café staff meeting and a rope peer workshop afterwards at the Citadel – that very afternoon, I was suddenly struck down with a high fever and sore throat.  I ended up sleeping through the meeting, and when I awoke, I had an astounding headache.  I took a couple advil and went back to bed, but not before asking my housemate if there was tea in the house.  There was one box of mango-based tea, which I wasn’t about to tempt my weakened immune system with.

Tuesday was probably the worst day – except that, midmorning, my housemate made a short stop home from work to drop off tea, orange juice, and fruit for me.  I was extremely touched!  Otherwise, however, I did not move from the bed except to go to the bathroom.  Any and all light pierced straight through my skull, and whenever I awoke, it was accompanied by a throbbing headache.  I had to call in sick for the few hours I had that day as well.  Again I used Advil so I could sleep.  The sore throat wasn’t too bad, as I kept drinking lots of tea, water, and orange juice.

Most of the day passed in a delirious blur, but when I woke up Wednesday morning, I felt a lot better.  So much better that I even ventured outside to sit in the sun for a few minutes.  Things were looking up!  I felt optimistic about making it to work on Friday, with another day of recuperation.  I internally praised my immune system for staying strong.  I also got a very sweet phone call from Max, which also made me feel a lot better.

Then, Thursday struck.  The day of questioning.  My fever started creeping back, the headache returned, and my nose started running.  I blew through one box of tissues and started on another.  I took a hot shower, and then made soup.  But even though I tried to resist all day, I ended up having to take more Advil in the afternoon.  I really wanted to go to work the next day, but was I well enough?  Would I still be contagious after my inadvertent four day quarantine?  Would people run in fear from my appearance?

So many questions I didn’t know the answer to.  Well, Friday morning, I was feeling a little better, in fact my only real symptom was a persistently clogged and runny nose.  I decided to stop by Safeway to pick up Sudafed before work to relieve that a little, and headed to the café.

Well, it worked rather splendidly!  I was still slightly sniffly, but that was about it – no sore throat, no fever, no headache.  Work went without a hitch, though by the end of my shift I was feeling a little shaky from low blood pressure, as I hadn’t eaten throughout the shift.  My own fault.  I got some  Thai curry to go and returned to the café to chill out and relax.  Originally I’d planned on attending the opening reception at Mr. S, but decided my nose wasn’t up to it.  I took another sudafed – my second that day – in the hopes of clearing it up before bed.

Instead, I felt my face becoming progressively number throughout the night – and it is only now starting to recede a little.  My nose remained congested, and I had a growing pile of tissues accumulating at my table.  Gross.

I decided it was time to go home.  So I packed up, said goodnight to Rose, and walked the 500 feet to my car.  At first, I thought I’d left my front driver window rolled all the way down.  But I never had it down all the way that day, and then I  saw the jagged edges.

Ah.  Someone had broken in.

I was really quite calm about the whole thing.  I carefully unlocked the car and peeked inside.  Everything I’ve ever put in the side pockets, seat pockets, and in the glove compartment was strewn everywhere.  Some dashboard panels had been ripped out, and there was glass everywhere.  The back, in comparison, remained relatively untouched.

I walked around to the passenger side and checked the glove box.  The only thing of value inside my poor, old, decrepit car was in the glove box: Susan, my GPS navigator.  I saw the glove compartment hanging open and the car manual and everything piled onto the carseat and figured it was gone.  But no – there it was, sitting right on the hanging door of the glove box.  I picked it up with amazement.

Really?

A cursory look showed that my GPS car adapter was missing from its plug, though I didn’t do a more thorough search to see if it had been taken or merely thrown about like everything else was.

I wanted to laugh.  Or cry.  Did the thief who took the time to break into a 12-year-old, playa-dust-covered, dying car, not even get away with anything more than a $5 cable?  I tried to imagine being in the shoes of this desperate person, who perhaps was feeling panic and anger building up as he searched and couldn’t find anything of value, that he could immediately tell.  Because he apparently had no idea what a GPS looked like or what it’s worth (not all that much, anyway.  Under $200 for my little Susan.  But she’s priceless in my heart, anyway.)

Well, I really shouldn’t be too presumptuous yet.  I really don’t know if there was something more valuable that was taken.  I don’t have an inventory of what was in the car at the time.  Maybe the little toolbox of torx heads and wrenches was taken from under my passenger seat.  Or – more likely – the thief was interrupted in his search and had to make a quick getaway with whatever happened to be in his hand – a GPS car adapter cord.

In any case, I headed numbly – both literally and emotionally – back to the café.  I made multiple phone calls chasing for a direct answer, or to at least direct me to something concrete that I could do.  I called AAA, and was told they couldn’t help, but could redirect me to the SFPD.  I got hung up on, so I looked up the SFPD number online and called directly.  The dispatcher told me to file a claim online, so I did.  Then I called my mommy.

Yes, I needed my mom.  I also wanted to try and find my AAA membership number so I could see what else I could get in the way of services.  After a bit of chitchat – through a very, very stuffed nose on my part – I got my number and called them.  There really wasn’t much else they could do, except tow my car the next day to a repair center.  So that is what I’ll be dealing with tomorrow.

I know I should be grateful that the vandalist didn’t steal Susan from me.  But it only increases the pointlessness of the vandalism and makes it all the more difficult to deal with having to pay the cost of repair for the pointlessness.

To sum up this week?

ARGH.

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Categories: emolicious, life
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  1. January 14, 2010 at 10:04 pm

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