Happy Birthday

Today is my best friend's 22nd birthday. She will have been dead 3 dead years on March 28th of this year.
To start off this overly cheery day, I woke up at 7 o'clock this morning to a sky the color of socks that haven't been bleached in years after having slept a total of three hours. The sky was leaking as I dashed to my automobile. When I turned the key in the ignition, my darling means of transportation reminded me, again, that her oil needed desperately to be replaced, and that I forgot to turn down my radio last night. I stopped at Dunkin Donuts on my way to school as I do on any day I have to be awake before 8AM and was rewarded for my frigid patience with a 3/4 filled latte with entirely to high an espresso content.
In my 8AM Shakespeare class I learned that we have an exam on Friday that covers the three plays that I read, as well as the three plays that I did not read. After my 9AM western history class my professor took time out of his busy day to tell me that he had given me a C- on a perfectly good paper because I approached the subject with the mind of an English student and not that of a history student. Doctor Fry has known me for four years and is well aware of my major.
My lunch date ditched me, again, and then proceeded to whine at me through electronic means about her unsympathetic, and plainly uninterested boyfriend of 1 month and blithely overlook all attempts I made at giving her the sound guidance she was begging. In lew of actually eating lunch, I spent an hour playing tag with every US Cellular store on the south side of Chicago before finally resolving to pay for damage I did not inflict under the pretext of “physical damage.” After my joy ride, I spent 50 minutes furiously taking notes in Latin History before finally determining that I could not handle Biology and going home to take a power nap.
I dreamt about failing load quality for two hours and woke up with a headache.
Traffic was abhorrent all the way to Hodgkins. I, who am generally an hour early, was nearly late to work. As had been the case for the prior three work days, I was allotted 5 people to run a dock with a planned staffing of 7 while every other dock had 7 minimum.
I failed the shit out of load quality.
At 10 o’clock I found myself wrestling horribly loaded and generally missorted bulk off a coffin being pulled by a bulk driver so hung over from the previous evening he still reeked of tequila. I clocked out 10:15.
My boyfriend, who had requested my indecent presence in his bedroom that evening the night before did not return my call until I was half way home. Even then, before I could ask him if he wanted me to come over or not, he told me he would call me right back and proceeded to have another 30 minute conversation before doing so. By the time he did I was so irritated and emotionally retarded that I completely pissed him off, which in turn completely pissed me off because he immediately reverted to saying whatever he thought would get him out of the conversation the fastest. I know this game well and was neither fooled nor amused by my forcible recruitment. The conversation was ended after a bit of pointless parlance that served to neither sate my current desperate need for affection, nor abate either of our frustration.
After giving myself 30 minutes to breathe deeply I called him back to tell him I loved him and to sleep well and was greeted by a crabby and irritable “what”, informed that he just wanted to go to sleep, and parted by a an equally irritable “bye.”
So much for sleeping beside the only pulse in this world that can make me feel her absence any less.