Someone Put a Curse on Me

cursed

While driving my son to school this morning, I received the following text from my friend:

Friend: For tonight’s team dinner, I see you’re bringing chicken and I’m bringing meatballs. How many should I bring?

Not one to shy away from middle-school humor, I simply responded:

Me: It depends on how big your balls are.

Friend: I can’t with you.

After discussing a few times what would be appropriate for 45 soccer players, she decided to end it with her own juvenile, fantastically wonderful response:

Friend: So what you’re saying is, you have the cock and I have the balls.

Yup!

Why I Think I’m Cursed

As I’ve been whining in one of my last posts, things haven’t exactly been going my way over the past 6 weeks. To recap:

  • AC went out in my car.
  • $300 coffee maker shot.
  • Not only did the dishwasher go out in July but after fighting with the warranty place, I’m still waiting on the replacement check.
  • Toilet stopped working downstairs.
  • Working since the first week of July to secure health insurance for my family. While my husband and sons officially have theirs, I’m being told mine will probably be rejected on the basis of ailments that occurred roughly 10-15 years ago.
  • And my personal favorite: T-Mobile withdrew $1,299.99 almost 2 weeks ago and they don’t have their shit together enough to pin down a date I’ll see that refund.

Who Cursed Me?

Who knows. I try not to make enemies. I will say that one suspect is a 14-year-old girl I’ve never met. Why do I think that? Well, two weeks ago a neighbor girl asked if she could hitch a ride to the men’s high school varsity game. She’s on junior varsity and it’s a requirement they attend this game. She’s a sweet girl but honest to a fault. Like, on the spectrum honest. I will never ask her if she thinks I look fat or how old she thinks I look because there be no nicety about it. Here’s how one of our many conversations went in the car:

Her: Do you know Sarah Miller?

Me: No. Why?

Her: Yeah, she doesn’t like you.

Me: Is this a parent or a kid?

Her: A kid. She said you walk around at soccer games, actin’ like you rule the place.

Me: Wait, what? I’ve never even met this girl.

Her: Yeah, I don’t like her. I thought she probably said that because it’s true that you do rule the place.

Me: (and this is in all honesty) I just sit there and watch the game. The only time I walk around is to use the bathroom or the concession stand.

Of course, me being me, I had to research my new adversary to see why on Earth someone I’ve never met, hates me. I mean, when I don’t do my facial treatments, I have been known to have Bitchy Resting Face Syndrom or BRFS but come on! I wanted to see if this girl had a social media and maybe a pentagram or something witchy in the background denoting my cursor. Unfortunately, I came up empty-handed.

So What Does One Do When They Think They’re Cursed?

You yell at people, lots of people. At least that’s my current approach or what my life has become. Obviously, I’m not yelling at anyone over my AC or my coffee maker. I am however having marathons, and I mean marathons, like 3-hour long messages with T-Mobile to get my money back. Towards the end of the conversations, I was typing in all caps. I didn’t think that would resolve things. No. I typed in all caps to express my elevated frustration over the matter.

I found the email address to the CEO of T-Mobile and emailed him. I looked up his salary, $22,000+. Can you imagine? What is $1,299.99 to him? A Thursday dinner where he buys for everyone? What he pays his housekeeper annually? I don’t know. I finished up last night finally resorting to submitting complaints with the FTC, the BBB and my state Attorney General. In my mind, a refund that takes this long is like $20 bucks for a returned charger or $50 for a backpack. Maybe even this long if you bought an appliance you changed your mind on. This was a blatant mistake on their part and they’re treating it like it’s a refund for $1.29, not $1,299.99.

I have thought about bringing in that shit you burn and walk around the house with. I’ve seen it in movies and A&E specials around Halloween. What is it? Sage, I believe? Regardless, if I can’t buy it at Kroger or Amazon Prime, I’ll just have to stick with yelling at people. Hey, here’s an idea and it’s an absolute no-brainer. Why doesn’t Febreze have a spray you can spray to cleanse negative energy? They could call it NO MORE FUCKERS, GENTLE SCENT. Well, I’m off to email Febreze about my ground-breaking product idea.

Share the laughs with friends!

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