The Waitlist, the Flu and Hooters Trivia

Yesterday, as I was sending my weekly trivia questions to my manager, I got an email saying I was wait-listed at my top law school choice.  Needless to say, I was devastated.  I was devastated and I had to go be cute and bubbly as a trivia host for three hours.  It was not a fun time.  Luckily, I am allowed to wear my hair up and throw my glasses on for trivia - fits in with the whole school girl theme we have you know?  So I trudged into work, looking like shit.  Naturally everyone noticed and there I was trying to explain what happened as even the mention of the words "law school" immediately brought me to tears.  Simplified, the night sucked before it even started.

Of course, it couldn't end there.  That would be nice and only mostly devastating.  Instead, my email decided to be a fuck and not send my trivia.  So I had to run home (which is luckily extremely close) and send it again.  This required opening my email, which forced me to see that stupid effing email again that screamed "you suck, but not enough for us to totally reject you".  It's like that boyfriend that doesn't totally dump you, but ignores you sort of until you go away.  You know the type.  It then took my email FIVE DAMN MINUTES to send a simple Word file.  All while that email laughed in my face.  Thank you, cruel irony!

So, I sped back to work realizing I was very glad I hadn't worn eyeliner.  Of course when I got to Hooters the internet was down.  They couldn't receive my email.  Note to self, purchase a printer.  Again I rushed home, this time grabbing my laptop and flying out the door.  I did not open my email.

Finally trivia got underway roughly 43 minutes late.  I was clearly an impressive hostess.  Actually, given the circumstances I was a damn good hostess.  I even got tipped $20.  I never get tipped for trivia.  In over a year of trivia, I have not been tipped once.  So to the man in the red shirt, I thank you.  While the tip made my night, the pain in my stomach did not.  I'd been feeling pained for the past day or so and assumed it was nerves relating to my impending law school notification.  I ignored it, finished trivia and went home to sleep off my awful evening.

Today, after a fitful night sleep, I woke begrudgingly and began to get ready for week.  Still my stomach hated me.  Along with my general sense of failure.  I was not even close to hooterific.  I tried desperately to remember what a wise woman from Hooters Corporate once told me,  "Put it all in a shit and leave that shit at the door.  Drop off your shit and you can pick it up when you leave."  But this shit was unrelenting.  It stuck right to my shoe and wouldn't let go.  Hooterific was an impossibility.

Luckily, it was slow and, understanding why I was in a desperate funk, my manager sent me home after only a few tables.  I was relieved.  But my stomach was not.  Getting home I suddenly realized that my stomach was perhaps more than nerves as my protein shake from a few hours before returned with a vengeance.  My shit that I couldn't leave at the door had multiplied into full blown, both ends, angry, vertical hating stomach flu.  Life delivered the final low blow.

So here I am on the couch, feeling like a failure, running to the bathroom every few minutes and wishing that my sister had a car so she could bring me some ginger ale.  I am not a happy camper.  I am however happy that I used my tax return on a couch.  Good foresight.