GPS Bitch keeps laughing at me.

Today can suck a giant bag of donkey dicks. Seriously, It's 11 in the morning, and I'm wondering if now would be a good time to embark on my new career as an alcoholic!

In order to collect unemployment, I have to take a Re-employment class, in a town about an hour away. Not exactly how I want to spend my day, but, such is life, right? My class was scheduled for last Tuesday, so I got all of my paperwork done, and headed off to become re-employable.

As some of you have experienced first hand, and most of you have heard me rant like a lunatic about, my GPS hates me. She routinely lies to me, and tells me to break multiple traffic laws. On this particular day she decided that I should take every dirt road between Marshfield and Wisconsin Rapids, even though there was a perfectly nice, PAVED, state highway which was a more direct route. When the dirt road tour started to take more than an hour, instead of the allotted 45 minutes, I called to let them know that I would be about 10 minutes late for the class. The overly efficient secretary informed me that if I wasn't in the class at the time it started, I wouldn't be allowed in. So, I turned around, figured out how to get home without GPS bitch's assistance and went home. Then I had to call and beg the unemployment gods to let me reschedule the class. Oh joygasms!

Class was rescheduled for today. Insomnia has been kicking my ass again lately, and last night was worse than usual. I fell asleep sometime around 4:30 am, and my alarm went off a little before 6:00, but I drug my sorry self out of the house and headed south. I did take a little glee in telling GPS bitch to kiss my ass, when she tried to turn today's journey into another trek through the cow path's of Wisconsin. She retaliated by telling me to turn left into a creek.

It was a nice, sunny, early fall morning, and it was quite pleasant in the car. It remained a pleasant place to be, right up until I hit the train tracks at the Wisconsin Rapids city limits. No, that's not exactly true, I didn't actually get to the tracks. They were already occupied by a train. A train that wasn't moving.

A couple of very nice highway workers, stopped at each car, and explained that the train had blocked off all the roads into town right now, but they thought it would be fixed shortly. The highway worker's definition of “shortly” differs from mine. I think shortly is under 15 minutes or so (5 minutes less than the time until my class started). The highway worker's “shortly” was an hour and 20 minutes. The ever efficient secretary had no sympathy that I was being held hostage by Union Pacific, and told me that I should have planned ahead. I desperately wanted to tell her how asinine that was, but since I have to make yet another trip there next week, I just satisfied myself with a fantasy of finding out where she lives, flattening all her tires, and when she is late for work, remind her that she should have planned ahead!

It's still a nice day, so I'm enjoying a leisurely drive back home, looking at the trees already starting to turn colors, when I come up behind an Amish buggy. There was oncoming traffic, so I couldn't pass right away, no big deal. Then the horse pulling the buggy did, what horses tend to do, and dropped some road apples. I swerved to avoid them, and right as I did that, the same horse threw a shoe, thankfully didn't hit anyone in the buggy, but did bounce off my hood and into my windshield. Nice crease in the hood, and the windshield completely spiderwebbed.

I swear I heard GPS bitch laughing when I pulled up the address for the auto glass place! And I still have to go back next week!