Broken Shoelaces

I feel as though I have been dealing splendidly here in Germany so far. Granted nothing has been going according to plan, but oh well, right? Don't let it bog down the fact that you have this fantastic opportunity here. Because the Gentner motto has always seemed to be: ''You wanna hear God laugh? Then tell him your 'plans'.''

Dealing with problems matriculating into a foreign school system? Confirmatory.
Not being able to access your German bank account to pay rent due in two days? Yep.
Needing eight hundred dollars in that German bank account in order to NOT be deported at the end of the month? Roger that.
Registering for classes that don't seem to exist? Check.
Not having internet in apartment? Affirmative.
Receiving none of the important government documentation in order to become a German citizen? Gotcha.
But man, oh man, when I got on that train and the ticket-control woman looked at my two-hundred-dollar-month-long pass and told me it had expired just four hours ago... therefore leaving me with a fifty dollar fine to be paid within the next two weeks. I cracked. I sat on the train and just turned my head to the window so no one would see me cry.

I do not cry easily, nor do I like to admit it, and really this is not that big of a deal. Everyone will be caught 'riding black' as it is called at one point of another when you ride long enough, but I was just at the end of my rope after finding out the fine should really only be about fifteen dollars since I am not a repeat offender.
Really, Germany? Deutsche Bahn? Nearly thirty extra dollars because I am having a bad day?

According to a very smart woman I know, this, in rehabilitation terms, is called Broken Shoelaces Syndrome.
The rest of these really cruddy things can be going on, and people can deal. We can, we're resilient, but when something minor taps us on the shoulder just to say, ''Hi. I am a common everyday circumstance just letting you know that life is still happening while you're dealing...''
For example, looking down to see your shoelace is broken, or in my case getting caught unknowingly riding the train without paying, sends you packing your bags to Breakdown Town.
We all have our problems. I know. Am I being a little mellow dramatic? Very likely.
 But I am a girl. I am in a bad mood. I am allowed to for a bit.
Trust me, in a couple days after this is all smoothed over the less whiny posts will once again dominate my blogosphere.
Bis bald.