Sixty Bucks

Today I got to work and realized, after unpacking my truck and moving everything into the house, that I had left tools in Arizona. This bugged me because they are perfectly good tools. The reality of my chances of ever seeing them again rushed into my head and showed on my face. I was enraged. I called the people in Arizona who said they hadn’t seen them, which was a waste of cellular minutes. I looked through my truck, which was also a waste of time. I told “Sparky” I’ll be back after I go and buy tools that I already own so watch my stuff, and if anyone tries to load it in their truck go ahead and help them, and we always tell each other that, jokingly, see ya in a few, bye.

I drove to my house, where I usually live, but I rented my room out to some girl, so I have to sneak around when I go there because I actually don’t live there. On my way, I yelled at God several times, my main point being that He is kicking me when I am down because I am down right now for several reasons, but won’t go into that now. I got to my house and I knew going in that the bag and toolbox I left there this morning didn’t contain my missing tools, but I stomped into the garage anyway, checked for my missing tools, then stomped out.

Next stop, Home Depot. I bought my tools all over again. The hammer was twenty and the stapler was thirty. I picked up some staples and a diet coke. Sixty bucks.