Kill me now

Today was a rough day at work. I wasn't mentally there half the time. Every time I thought I was on the ball and caught up, something would happen in the office that would take me some time to fix/do and I'd miss a car getting into the garage, so they wouldn't have the information for it like they were supposed to, and that happened a few times during the day. It was frustrating, and I was really glad when the day was over.

Also, it started raining near the end of the day, so less cars came in, thank goodness, but we were BUSY. We got over 120 cars through today. I think the most we've ever pushed through is 140some, but I wasn't working there at the time, so to me, this was the busiest we've ever been. Ugh. Ken, the owner, told me I was doing a good job today, so that made me feel better about being braindead today.

We (Mom, Dad, and I) went to Las Margaritas tonight for dinner. They had us sitting at a table that could be used for a family of four, or pushed together with another table to accomodate more. Well, the owner had forgotten they had a reservation for that area, so he had to move us after we'd already got our drinks and chips and salsa, so he promised us free desert. 'Twas yummy.

Dad had some to drink before we went, so he let Mom drive on the way there. I had complained about the interstate being covered in standing water, which is why I'd taken the old highway home from work, so Mom said that she'd have some liquor in her after dinner, so I could drive home. So the closer and closer we get to home, the more Mom starts pretending to nitpick about my driving. "Don't go over those railroad tracks at 40 miles an hour, now!" Then Dad tells me that "anything over 50mph is okay." So I'd drive in the other lane going around corners, or not, just on straight roads, and I'd swerve at things that weren't there, or brake really hard. Mom kept telling me to watch out for things, so I'd pretend to aim for mailboxes and stuff down the road. Then we got to the driveway, so I went really fast through the puddles to make sure they'd splash on her car, and then she told me not to park crooked in the garage, so of course I did. She's practically on Dad's side of the garage. HAHAHA. Then she called me an "evil bitch."

Dad's listening to the Traveling Willburrys in the living room. I love these guys.

I'm so incredibly tired. I could fall asleep right here. At not even 9pm. Sheesh.