I went to a local craft store this morning to grab some embroidery floss, a few shades to finish my Grumpy Cat cross stitch and some gold for Wonder Woman's lasso! When I took my handful of skeins up to the counter, the sales clerk said their computer was down, and she was sorry, but she'd have to take the time to write down all my floss numbers and ring them up by hand.
So as she's getting to the end of the pile of floss, she lets out this heavy sigh and laments, "This is NOT a good way to start the morning off." Wanting to commiserate, I promptly returned with, "Oh, I know exactly what you mean. I hit a squirrel this morning."
She looked up from her calculator with a frown.
"With my car," I said.
Me: "You know, and it made me really sad."
Me: "Because I killed it. I killed a squirrel."
Cashier is looking at me like she's trying to determine what sort of disorder afflicts me.
Me: "That's not really the same thing at all, is it?"
Cashier: "I guess...they're both...not good?" as she hands me my change.
Me: "I'm going to leave now."
Is it any wonder that I avoid going out in public?