Hole Please

There is only thing that I despise almost the same amount as missing someone. I just really hate feeling embarrassed. It’s one of those emotions that make me want to cry and scream and throw things all at once. I want to crawl into the darkest, dankest hole I can find and stay there until every person I’ve ever known is gone and has long forgotten my very existence. Yeah, it’s really that bad.

I go to extreme lengths to avoid any potential brush with embarrassment. Going on 10 years ago, when my now husband had let on that he was going to propose I threatened to say no if he did it in any kind of public or embarrassing way. I research things within an inch of their lives to make sure I know stuff before I actually talk to anyone about just about anything. When I’m in a room of people I don’t know, I hang back and watch everyone else for a while to figure out where the bathroom is or what the flow of traffic is. I mean it’s a bit on the neurotic side, the extent of my aversion to even remote feelings of embarrassment. And I know it’s inching towards crazy.

This is why I’m now going to tell you about my day. My day that now has me wanting to chain smoke cigarettes and slam cheap beer in my deep, dark and dank hole.

On Friday we found a perfect car for my husband. A great, versatile car that would suit our family and him really well that we could have for a long, long time. I was excited and happy about the purchase.

And then today, we went back in to finish the paperwork and were informed that the dealership couldn’t get us financed. Apparently our credit scores are great, but banks are all fucked up and so we had to give the car back. Who has had to give a car back? Seriously…

And it was awful and they handled it poorly and I handled it really poorly.

I want my hole. I want it right now. Where is a good hole when you need one?

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