A few minutes after I get home from Cory's I get a call from Mike saying that he needs me to come to Culpeper to pick him up since his truck broke down. Well, of course I will. Then he ends the conversation with "and hurry the fuck up" and just hangs up on me. Yeah, goodbye. I'm in Culpeper - I've just crossed over I-64. I get another call from him. He called his uncle to pick he and his truck up, since his uncle has a wrecker, and didn't remember to call me until they had already begun their way out of Culpeper. Fucking wonderful. I don't even get a sorry. I just get hung up on again.

I come home and the first thing I hear is "Where have you been?" I was supposed to be home at 11:00. I'm always supposed to be home at 11:00. I always am. I'm about an hour and fifteen minutes late. Time for my grandma to piss in my already soggy-with-urine cheerios.

Somewhere along the lines I must've subconciously done something to deserve what I get. I've always said that people get what they deserve, so I guess I'm getting mine.