What a freakin' day!

It's one of those days where you ask yourself, "What else can go wrong?" But God punishes us for what we can't imagine, and that pretty much sums up the day I had.

First, I got up early and worked out, thinking, "Oh, how wonderful, I have until 9:00 to get ready for my client's adoption hearing, since it's not til 9:45. Ho ho, ha ha, hee hee." So, as I get out of the shower, I get a text message from Bree: "Which floor is the adoption on?" I responded I didn't know, because I had tried to get that information from the courthouse earlier, but they couldn't release it to me because it's confidential.. bah, and asked if it was at 9:45. I started to get this feeling I couldn't quite describe, unless I used the words "mortal dread." Surely it wasn't at 8:45... right? I get another text message from Bree: "We're all here at the courthouse." WTF OMG AGGGHHHHH

So I jump into some clothes, not even bothering to brush my teeth, take my medicine or put on a belt--just straight out the door. All the way to Covington, I'm cursing and pounding on my steering wheel, but apparently through my pounding I found some frequency that manages to change all the traffic lights in my path RED. Naturally. So I finally get to the courthouse parking garage, and have to ascend to the top of the Tower of Babel Parking, then I made a mad dash down 5 flights of stairs, taking them two or three at a time. Then, I hit the sidewalk and start running. I'm not talking Forrest Gump here. I'm talking Tyson Gay Olympic-style sprint. I was also carrying two brightly colored gift bags, which only contributed to how freaking awesome I looked. So I turn into The Flash and speed through the courthouse and get into the courtroom just as the judge takes the bench. Freaking sweet. The adoption went off without a hitch, and there were sniffles and smiles and hugs and puppies.

So, I beat it out to the office so I can print out some forms, then turn around to pick up one of my clients for a visit. I pass highway 1996, and a cop starts to pass me... then slows down, brakes, pulls behind me and turns on his flashers. Awesome. I pull over, and he proceeds to berate me about my expired registration. I play the "meek as a little mouse" card, and he lets me off with a written warning. So, I call the vehicle registration office and cleared up the whole reason I hadn't renewed my registration: I didn't know which county to go to (my home county where I was registered last year and which sent me a notification card, or my county of residence as of this year) and because I couldn't find my old registration. I pick up my client, easy-peasy, we have lunch. On the way back, I turn onto 3-L... and I get pulled over AGAIN!! By this time, the whole thing is just too funny, so when the officer comes up to the window, I politely show him I already have ONE written warning this afternoon, I really don't need any more encouragement to renew my registration. So he goes back to his car for about a fortnight or so, then returns with a piece of paper. It's a freaking COURT SUMMONS. He tells me that if I don't get my registration renewed TODAY I'll have to go to court. Flipping awesome. I drop my client off at home, and dash to Newport for my new registration.

...then I get pulled over AGAIN! Okay, kidding on that one, but I wouldn't have been surprised. I felt like I was being racially profiled for being a white male. So I get my registration and hand over my citation to the clerk, just like I was told by the nice officer.. and she's like, "Uh, what is this? No, we don't do that here. You need to take it to district court, over on Monmouth." Non non Nannette, I got this ticket in KENTON county. "Oh, well take it to district court in Covington." Do you, perchance, know where that is? "Uh, it's over there sort of around Court Street, I think."

Great. Awesome.

So I pull up to what I -thought- was the district court office, and locate the vehicular registration office. Perhaps this is where I want to go? I talk to the nice lady, who says I need to go to the second floor of the Judicial Building, which is a block over. Except I am directionally-challenged, and I end up walking about the equivalent of 3 blocks before I find the entrance. I go to the second floor, and the nice lady says go to the third floor. Beautiful. I tromp my way up to the third floor to an office that sounds pretty menacing on the sign. Something like, "The Kenton County Department of Serious and Heinous Criminal Offenses that Stay on Your Record For All Eternity." Oh noes. I finally get called up to the desk and hand the pretty girl my citation, my registration, explain the situation.. and she makes a copy of the citation, hands me back my stuff, and tells me in a foreign accent--maybe Russian or Eastern European--that everything is taken care of.

Thank GOD.

I went to the gym, where I proceeded to have a perplexing discussion with my personal trainer that ended with a declaration that from now on, we'll be doing free weight sessions, and I really need to "push myself harder." Which translates into I will be a broken man by Wednesday at 6:30.

Now I just want to crash and not think about the vaccuuming, dusting, wiping, sweeping and straightening up that needs to get done before my company (Jason plus ??) gets here this weekend. If they come. Judging from the way this week is starting out, I'm thinking I won't have to worry about my apartment looking nice for visitors.

Oh, and I have a cold/allergies.

Negative Nancy, signing out.