I've heard it said that God looks out for drunks and idiots. Perhaps because those folks cannot look out for themselves, God keeps an extra close eye on them, sending an extra guardian angel or two to make sure no one gets hurt.
Well, this morning I definitely fell into the idiot category.
First off, I slept poorly. I went to bed relatively early, after falling asleep during the premiere of Community. This happened because I really wanted to see that show, so therefore I fell asleep about one minute in. It's my own damn fault; I stretched out on the sofa and that, my friends, is the kiss of death to consciousness.
Anyway, I woke again about 2:45 am. Wide awake. And yet, not awake enough to realize that Joe had already gotten up and moved to the guest room. So I stumbled into the guest room, thinking that a different pillow might help me fall back to sleep. I grabbed the pillow and almost pulled Joe out of the bed. After apologizing, I stumbled back into my bedroom, turned off the alarm, grabbed the original pillow, decamped to the sofa, and turned on TCM.
I must say, Hollywood pulled out all the stops to support the troops during World War II. I present as evidence: Hollywood Canteen, a strange mixture of fictional romance mixed with Hollywood Stars and musical numbers.
I drifted off during another Rah Rah World War II picture starring Kay Kyser and his Kollege of Musical Knowledge. This movie features an actor name Ish Kabibble. Really. Ish Kabibble.
I woke up 45 minutes later than normal. I jumped (sort of) off the couch, put up the coffee, and dragged my ass into the shower. I got to work almost an hour late.
Since I had to deposit a check, I decided to just go to the bank right then and there, so I wouldn't get wrapped up in work and forget, which I am wont to do. Even though I was already late, I went anyway, because hey, in for a penny, in for a pound, whatever that means.
Now, at Bank of America you no longer have to put deposits in envelopes. You just insert the check into the deposit slot and an unseen force yanks it into the magical scanning ATM, where it reads your check and displays it on the screen.
Alas, the magical scanner did not recognize my check as a check, so it spit it back out to me. I grumbled and tried again. Again with the ptui! Frazzled, I grabbed the check and marched into the bank (imagine actually going into a bank!), filled out a counter slip, and handed the check and deposit slip to the teller.
"Now just swipe your ATM card and enter your PIN," she said.
I reached into my wallet and...
No ATM card. The light dawned -- in my frazzledness, I neglected to cancel the transaction and retrieve my ATM card.
"SHIT!" I exclaimed (I am a delicate ladylike flower), "I left my ATM card in the ATM!" I ran out to get it, but the ATM screen was just the bland, welcoming screen. No ATM card in sight.
I ran back into the bank, weeping and gnashing my teeth (well, more gnashing than weeping), and the wonderful guardian angel teller said, "Hang on, let me see if we have a key."
They did!! She asked me wait, went to the back of the ATM, unlocked it, and rescued my ATM card. She made sure I was me, then handed it to me with only a slight admonishment.
"You're lucky," she said. I wholehearted agreed, thanked her profusely, thought about kissing her feet (but rejected the idea), and left.
The minute I got to work I logged into online banking and made sure no one had helped themselves to our meager bank balance while I was blithely filling out the deposit slip. Nope -- all was as it should be.
Thank you, God. I promise to work on not being a dumbass.
