Merrily, merrily, merrily

This morning, as I was driving to work, gripping the steering wheel with hands of rage as usual, something kind of funny happened. Even though I'm in a state of clench when I'm in traffic, I can't not sing along to the radio. So, while I'm generally annoyed, I'm also singing at the top of my lungs to "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart while simultaneously checking my cell phone to see what time it is.
And the reason that I have to do that is that the clock in my car, along with my alarm clock at home is about 35 minutes fast, so I never really know what time it is.
Everybody does that trick, right? Except for me, it no longer helps me to be on time, I just never know what time it actually is.
So, anyway, as I look up from my cell phone, there's a guy in the lane next to me laughing. At me. Because I'm singing rather animatedly. This happens quite a bit, and normally, I kind of get flustered and break eye contact, but this morning, I just laughed right back and kinda shrugged my shoulders to indicate, "Yeah, you caught me." It made the remainder of my commute a little more bearable.
Yesterday, during a particularly hideous day at work, I went outside for my 3:30ish smoke break. Now, I look forward to this for a number of reasons. The weather is awesome, and this is one of the few times I get to go outside during the day, smoking does calm me down a little (at least in my head it does) and by taking my break at 3:30, it means the hell that is my workday is almost over.
So, I'm outside, enjoying my cigarette, having just lit it, and what appeared to be a red wasp kind of just popped up in front of my face. So, I did what I've been doing since I was 5 and that consists of running away like an idiot, even though every logical piece of advice regarding things that sting you tells you to be still and just get them to go away.
So, I ran around the parking lot, yelling "Sonofabitch," that is, until I ran into the glass door, with my head, mind you, and, realizing that the stupid thing was still on my sleeve, entered the code more quickly than I ever have before, while knocking the gangster wasp off me.
Thank GOD no one saw me, and I feel sure that when I came back inside, everyone was wondering why I was that much out of breath, but I chose not to share it.
And, when I drove home, again in the lovely commute that makes me want to turn homicidal, I realized that my cell phone had been cut off, with no warning, not because I hadn't paid the bill, but because Sprint decides after an arbitrary point, that if you have a certain amount of minutes over your allotted minutes, regardless of how much money you've given them, they cut it off without telling you, even if this is your only phone, and masked bandits could kidnap you at any moment, with your cell phone being your only link to the outside world.
So, while waiting the up to four hours for my payment to go through, I had to borrow my roommate's boyfriend's phone to make calls, trying to assure people that "No, I'm not poor, I swear. Sprint just sucks."
But you know what? After sharing all of that, things could be A LOT worse, so I'm venting, but not complaining. There's a subtle difference.