{neclkace :: luckybrand}{cardigan :: oldnavy}{shirt :: oldnavy}
{pants :: tjmaxx}{boots :: tjmaxx}
I want to start off with "Happy Valentines." But that will be the end of love making and cheeriness for this post. Today I bumped my car into a big nasty truck. Luckily there was nothing, not a ding, on the huge shiny bumper of the F150, but my car took it pretty bad. In fact, it was $700 bucks worth of bad. A $700 bucks I can't even begin to afford. Just after the bump I scampered around trying to figure out what best to do. Looked at "his" bumper, looked at mine. Back and forth while the blood was pumping in my ears. Left a quick note with my info, drove around the corner and called my Superman.
Big mistake. It is like going to your mom just after you fall off your bike. You are perfectly fine. Totally mobile, not hurt in any way, but as soon as I heard his voice the hysterical tears started to flow. I could barely tell him what was going on, that I was fine but the car wasn't. He wanted to spring into action like all superheros do, to come and rescue me. I said no. I went back to work. I cried a lot.
Worst Valentines Ever! Superman had to work. Just me sulking, alone, all night long, in ratty pajamas and not even a bowl of ice cream.
The End.
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