The worst day of my life! GOSH!

Here is my favorite pair of shorts :
For the length of one indentured servitude (7 years in Greek Mythology) these have been my favorite shorts. Over the last two years they have really gone downhill and developed holes in obscene places, notice the giant crotch hole... not exactly what most people refer to as "decent" exposure.

Yesterday, had one of the worst exercise experiences in a quite some time. I was in a compute lab on campus to work on a final project, that is due Tuesday. The only program we can use to complete the project was out of service, and cannot be accessed anywhere else. A friend from class was dealing with the same frustrations, and after a few minutes we both concluded that further effort was futile.

So I says to her:
B: Hey Meggie, do you want to go for a run? [She is a soccer player and therefore might be down for this sort of thing, I have been off the bike for 4 days due to work and am jumping out of my pants (see previous post for pants jumping reference) with hyperactivity]
So she says to me:
M: You know I was actually thinking about running today. OK let's do it.
So I says to her:
B: Sweet

Sure that's paraphrased, but also not important, we worked out the logistics and went to Grindstone Park. Approximately 5 minutes and 32 seconds into our run Meggie made some weird sound and started cursing. I look to see Meggie limping down the trail like some stray buckshot had caught her in the calf. Using words that would make a sailor blush with shame. Meggie explains to me that she twisted her ankle, and from the looks of things I'm thinking, "you didn't twist it, you broke that shit in two." So we are walking slowly back to the car, her ankle is feeling better, and I realize I've lost my car key. I know it's lost so I'm not too worried about going to look for it immediately. I promptly say "I think I have some ibuprofen in my car, you can take some as soon as we get back." For some reason the "no keys = no ibuprofen" light bulb doesn't hit either of us until the parking lot. Anyway, Meggie drives off angry, bruised, and still cursing. I go look for my keys, and don't find them.

Later that day the zipper on my favorite shorts broke irreparably.

Summary of day: Bartend at jewish funeral in 1920s era concert hall, fail at making any progress on large project due in two days, end up all decked out in serious running gear just walking around real slow for an hour, half of the time with some girl who is walking like Quasimodo and cursing like a European soccer hooligan, lose car key, favorite shorts explode.

Meggie curses like a sailor.