today�s unpleasantness is brought to you by the letter P
January 29, 2008

Popcorn, periods, and (spark) plugs.

Popcorn--that hideous assault to all five senses, was the afternoon snack provided for my training class today. By two-thirty, I was nearly in complete shutdown.

So I was really glad for break time, when I could go hide in a bathroom stall for a minute and scream into my fist. And pee, of course. Only to sit down and find out it was �Arts and Crafts Week at Panty Camp�. No wonder I was an utter wreck yesterday!

I was so fucking glad to get out of there today. A feeling which lasted until I got in the car to come home, only to have it buck, stutter and heave like it was going to crap out on me. The basic issue--the engine was misfiring. The check engine light was on. FUCK! I did a quick check of the situation, found it was fine when revved, and decided to make a run for the border. She was fine on the highway, although it was happening again once I got into town and had to stop at the lights.

I came home, called Spouse, and got to enjoy him bitching at me like it was my fucking fault somehow that the car was acting up. (Why couldn�t I be like most girls, and marry a guy like my father. Nope, I had to go and marry MOM!) Come to find out he was feeling so unsympathetic because HE has a hole in the sidewall of his right front tire. So I guess P stands for �puncture�, as well.

He was generally pissy when I asked his opinion of what could cause it, and said it was probably a bad sensor or something. When I asked if it might be a bad plug issue, he put me down dismissively.

So I said fuck it, I�ll worry about it myself, and called Midas to see how late they were open. Late enough, it turns out. I took it over there, revving at red lights and praying the bitch wouldn�t puke on me. I made it, and they got it in and ran an engine diagnostic on it--$75.00 right there, just for a diagnosis. Which turned out to be: plugs and wires.

Yeah, because I�m such an idiot. Unfortunately, it also turned out to be $383.05. Oh, well. That�s why there�s Mastercard.

Now it�s eight o�clock, I haven�t had anything but some cheese today, and I�m going to go nuke something for dinner, wash a load of clothes, and try to sneak in a little Web time. I haven�t even read my Chron comics page today--cripes! I don�t even know who left that lipstick-stained highball glass next to Lu Ann�s boyfriend�s bed in Apartment 3G!