A Dr. Pepper toast to my sister

Once upon a time I blogged about having a rough day. This was my sister's clever response:

I can relate, for instance, you have to work on the 24th of July, which you aren't happy about, but you deal with it since after all, you took that holiday time off the week before. But it is difficult for you to cope with since the fun has passed and now you are missing the parade to be at work. So you go to work and it's unbareably quiet and you keep checking the clock but only 15 minutes have passed, so you talk to yourself and convince yourself that if you can wait until 10:00, and try not to look at the clock until then, you can go to the tesoro and get a Dr. Pepper. You wait anxiously and try not to think about it, about how you get to briefly run away and pretend you aren't at work, and get a tall Dr. Pepper, the breakfast shake of champions, and finally, finally you make it, and try to be patient as you drive the speed limit because a cop is behind you, when really you just want a Dr. Pepper, fresh from the fountain because they are so much better that way, and you get to the tesoro, park crooked, knock an old man over on your way in, make a b-line for the fountain to find and scrawled little note that the Dr. Pepper fountian is 'out of order'- you can't believe it and you interrupt the clerk to double check, because this has to be a cruel cruel not very funny joke, and Pedro just looks at you and says 'well, if the sign says were out, were out' so you stand there stunned, trying not to argue with him or break out crying, and then you try to console yourself with coke, but it doesn't help and the brown drink just mocks you because it looks like Dr. Pepper, but it's not, you forget it's not your drink of choice and when you drink it you grimace and realize it's just a foul substitute that tastes like hair spray- so yes, I think I kind of remotely get what you mean.