First week at white collar work.

I find a parking spot where there's no 'NO PARKING' signs, also there's a huge truck parked on the same road as well.

I leave the car to go to work.

Two hours in, I realize I forgot my old schoolbag inside the car. I notify the supervisor I'm getting out to go get it. The car is two blocks away.

"Sure, but if something happens call me so I know not to expect you"

"Um, okay, the car's just two blocks away, I'm going there getting the bag and coming back."

So I go there, and find my car's back window smashed to pieces and my bag gone. Inside were art supplies worth about 50 euros, but most importantly sketches and notes for the next three issues of my self-published comic book. I'm talking about a month of work and research, storyboards, dialogues, all gone.

I call the police to report the incident, when I notice something on the front window:

an 80 euro illegal parking ticket. I look at the time it was written: 10 minutes before I arrived.

I ask the locals why the cops wrote me a ticket, they say parking is forbidden.

"But there's no sign saying so!"

"yes there is, right there", says a local, pointing at a NO PARKING sign, on a pole that was crushed to the ground by the parked truck which is now gone from the scene.

"by the way the guys who broke your car window did it twenty minutes ago."

"And you didn't tell the cops writing me the ticket? They wrote it ten minutes ago!"

"blah blah blah I was going there (in so many words: not my problem even though I wouldn't be inconvenienced)

So I thought 'Shit, I better call the cops NOW, they might find the culprits'

I call the cops, they tell me they'll be there in ten minutes and I should wait there.

I call my work supervisor, he doesn't answer. I call again, twice, thrice, four times, then the line's busy, then he ignores me again.

Seven minutes have passed since I called the cops. I think walking to work is a two minute walk, shouldn't be a problem if I jogged and told the supervisor myself since he refuses to talk on the phone.

I literally take three steps, and then the cops show up. So I stop because I have to report what was stolen, the description I got from the local dude who saw them etc.

As I do that I keep trying to contact the supervisor. My phone data showed thirty six failed calls, where he simply ignored me and didn't answer, and five busy calls inbetween.

So twenty minutes have passed with me talking to the cops. They leave, and tell me they'll notify me if they find something. That, of course, was two years ago, and I've long since given up hope.

I return to work, devastated. My insurance policy sucks and I have to pay for the broken glass myself because of technicalities, I've lost three months of my life's work on the profession I chose but can't fully support me financially yet, I get to lose about fifty euros worth of art supplies in the bag, I get to pay eighty euros for a traffic ticket I got unfairly.

And then I see the supervisor, furious, screaming at me and demanding where I was all this time, all these hours, HOURS! (I was gone thirty-five minutes total) without answering my phone or calling him!

I try to explain I called him about fifty times, that my car was smashed and I had to wait for the cops, and he didn't answer the phone, I showed him the call data on my phone, I showed him the signed statement from the police that they were there and needed me there to answer questions, I even showed him the parking ticket.

I might as well have talked to a wall.

I was fired.

I pack my few things, drive home, and on the way a taxi crosses a red light and crashes onto me.

Ambulance, hospital, broken leg, twenty stitches. At least my insurance covered it.

I have to stay for at least a day there.

I get an SMS at twelve in the night. My girlfriend of a three year old relationship finally shows signs of life. She hadn't answered my calls all day.

She dumps me "because she can't handle this relationship any longer." No further explanation. No answering her cell phone. No answering my messages.

Midnight marks my birthday. I can't handle any more shit so I just doze off in the hospital bed.

I wake up three hours later because an old man mistakes my room's door for his own, invades my unlocked room, and screams at me at the top of his head to get off his bed. By the time the nurse gets there I can't calm down enough to get back to sleep.

I try to log into facebook. At least some birthday wishes from my friends might do something to my collapsed ego.

Someone's hacked into my account and changed the passwords.

Two years later, I still haven't taken back my facebook account.