i was going to come home as quickly as I could and then collapse on my unmade bed and sleep until the cows come home after the last two days have been the worst thing EVER. Then I decided to take 695 home instead of 895 because I am the BIGGEST IDIOT IN THE WORLD.

I thought, "Hey, it's late, the only people taking 695 at this hour are truckers, and they know how to drive so i can hide from the cops, floor it, and make it home in time for a camomile tea and some PJs before I hit the bed, sleepy face first..."

WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. SO WRONG. WRONGER THAN WOOL COATS AROUNG LAMBCHOP. WRONGER THAN "NEWLYWEDS: THE LIFE AND TIME OF JESSICA AND NICK." WRONGER THAN HIGH HEELS ON THE BEACH.

2 and a half hours later, I walked in, well deserved slurpee in hand and I sat down to blog.

Well, not really. i sat down and instinctually checked my computer for any messages or new goings-ons, and found this message waiting from Miss.Loquacious:

you should write a book and try to get it published. and i am so serious about that. your blog cracks me up while wondering the whole time what is gonna happen next, lol, even though it is your real life. you would be a millionaire. lol, and if not, at least i would buy a copy

A big thank you to all my fans, but I have to say, I don't think I could write a book. I'm not capable of making this stuff up. FOR INSTANCE...

TODAYS ADVENTURE OF "SUPER FOOTWEAR GIRL"

"See you later, super footwear girl, I'm heading out"

"Bye district manager guy who tries to ruin my life every chance he gets. It was nice to see you as always..." (BIG FAKE SMILE ON MY FACE WITH A BLINKING SIGN OVER MY HEAD READING "LIAR")

Suddenly, Super footwear girl feels a tickle in her throat! How will she remedy her latest ailment? A Drink, she thinks, a drink will do just fine. And she has one, in the back office... So, super footwear girl traverses the long and arduous journey all the way to the back of the store, careful to not exhaust herself in the process. She reaches the back door, walks through the porthole, attempts to walk inot the office and SMACK! CRASH! SHE HITS HER NOSE ON THE COLD, FLAT, CLOSED OFFICE DOOR. Silly district manager man, he shut the office. No problem, I'll just turn the handle and---AHHHH! OH NO!! THE DOOR IS HOPELESSLY LOCKED!! AND YOU'RE UTILITY BELT (purse with the keys to the store) IS IN THERE! A key in the safe... There must be a key in the safe... BUT NO, THWARTED AGAIN BY FATE, SUPER FOOTWEAR GIRL. HOW WILL YOU SAFE YOURSELF NOW?

I ended up spending an hour dragging a ladder bigger than my house out of the stock room, popping out and breaking 3 ceiling tiles, and using the autopole adjuster to James Bond my way into the back office. Needless to say, the last two days have afforded super footwear girl more trouble than an entire season's worth of kiddie super hero shows. And on top of it all, the drive home are just the icing on a tradgically horrible cake o'life right now.

But Mr. Future Millionaire makes it all ok with the little things sometimes. He told me last night to call him today and I didn't get to before he could reach me. 2:300 and 3 o'clock saw him calling and the 4 o'clock hour was strictly phone tag. Finally, he leaves a message that sounds a little like this:

"Hey, I think you got kidnapped... Cause the last number was not the work number I know and I keep trying to call you and you keep not answering. If you have been kidnapped, don't worry... it's ok. Just call me back and hang up when you get a chance and I'll get someone on that... I mean, I'm probably not going to go to it right away, I'll probably be to busy for the next like two days... But I will send someone to find you, I promise. So just call back and hang up... yeah..."

Gold. Memoirs Gold right there people...

Thats why he's going to be a millionaire...