Major Fuck-up reporting for duty?

Today was amazing. I woke up at 9AM, early enough to not have to rush to get ready for work. Oh how happy I was, knowing I would have a decent day, working 3 hours during lunch at my happy snappy fast food job, then I'd have a 2.5 hour break until it would be time to work again, same place, but the dinner shift/pre-close. But this was not so....

Instead as I walked out the door at 11AM to get to work a little early (had to be there at 11:30) I noticed something awry. Were my pants unzipped? no. Did the small hole in the crotch of my jeans become noticable.... probably, but I don't care about that, I'm wearing black/blue shorts underneath. Did I forget part of my uniform, maybe a hat or a nametag? Nope. Then what was it?

The Van wasn't there. Lo and behold all ye followers of mammon, the vehicle that I use (not my own, but I've access to it, especially on days when I can't take the bus home because I get off really late at night or whatever it may be) was not there. It had vanished, as someone else was 'taking a ladder somewhere and would be right back'. Well, I called good ol' Barb (The GM of my happy snappy fast food establishment) thru Skypeout (which was badly disconfigured by my own doing, the mic settings are all fuckity) to let her know I would be late. She couldn't really hear me, but she knew I said I'd be late.

Well, it's been 2 hours since I was supposed to clock in, and where am I? At home, chillin' (literally) in the basement listening to music (blaring Metallica... good Metallica. Ride The Lightning, bitches!) waiting for the van and feeling the insecurity of the American financial crises firsthand.... or at least mentally/psychologically. Most of me doesn't give a shit, but It's nice to feel secure sometimes, and I don't know if I do anymore.

Damn it all, damn it all to hell!