|Feeling a bit like Job...
||[Feb. 16th, 2007|08:08 am]
|||||This is Pop, XTC||]|
So my dogsitter crapping out on me means I have to miss the trip to FlaRF, and although some friends volunteered to step up and take over...really, it's for the best; I really need some time to get some basic stuff done before the season starts in earnest. (Because, after all, it doesn't really seem to end, anymore, just "lull" a bit in December and January.)
And this freaking icy crap. I wouldn't mind it so much if it was just me, but when you have to take two greyhounds out 5 times a day, creatures that are peculiarly unadapted to walking on the ice or crusty snow...
And then you're running late for work because well, THAT'S your own damn fault...
But then, you're coming out of the grocery store with your client's groceries, load them all up into the back of the car, which is already filled with two heavy crates of cookware and suppplies...and come around to the other side where you see the flat tire...
Expletive of your choice...but make it a really good one.
So then I think, aw, hell, I've got all that stuff loaded right where the spare is. And I'm late. And I want to have a chance to get home at a reasonable time and have a nice dinner with Brad before he leaves for Florida.
So, I go for the shortcut...which is almost always a bad idea isn't it? Pull out the can of stuff that fixes flats and pisses off the tire guys who have to get it back out of the tire. Read the directions carefully -- it says not to use it in temperatures over 140 (what? If it's 140 degrees where I'm at, my flat tire is probably the LAST thing I'm worried about. I'll bend that freaking rim to hell and back at that point.)but it says nothing about conditions of cold. So I figure I'm golden. After all, my shampoo bottle has instructions on how to wash my hair. This is the age where there's a disclaimer for everything. And this stuff is da bomb, when you're in a hurry and have a flat.
But not here, Little Grasshopper. Like a can of soda that's really, really cold, that freezes into ice crystals the minute you open it...so goes flat tire fixer. So, it's not going into the tire AND it's now frozen to the tire valve stem, or whatever you call it. And not coming back off.
So, I have to rearrange all of the groceries and crates to other areas of the car, the areas NOT directly over where the donut and jack are stored. And I'm consoling myself that really, better here, in a nice level parking lot that had been well-plowed and was ice and crunchy free, than in my gravel, poorly shoveled, arctic-landscape driveway. Plus, the other cars around me are cutting off the wind chill, I think, as I briefly curse the whoreson at the Saturn factory who thought that surely my donut would rise from its cubby and viciously attack me if it were not bolted in with all the force that a GM robot can exert.
But that's okay. I'm feeling competent, and finally get it loose, mentally thank my Dad for making me prove that I could change a tire before allowing me to get my driver's license. I even manage to get the hubcap off enough to access the lug nuts WITH the can of fix a flat still tenaciously attached. Thankfully, I'm a big brute of a girl and and while it takes some effort to get the lug nuts loose, I manage, turning down three offers of assistance, because, well, I'm pig-headed that way. I even am ruining my gloves, but that's okay because just yesterday I looked at these gloves and thought, yuck, they look like hell; I really should retire them to "dirty project status". Ha!
Which is when the lady pulled into the space in front of my car, failed to stop in time and slammed into the front of my car.
Thankfully the jack held, although I was using the jack handle on the lug nuts at the time and it took a little chunk out of my finger. No damage to the car -- maybe the front license plate is a little more dented, but really, I'd already done most of that myself.
But really, that was just gratuitous on the part of the gods -- I mean, here I am, trying and even succeeding at keeping a sunny outlook on what was a really, really annoying situation -- I was cold, dirty, hurting my back and knees, looking foward to packing my car back up and then still going to stand on my feet for 6-7 hours cooking, risking knife and flame injury -- and I was still holding the cheerful. Celebrating my strength, competence and fortitude.
The car-smacking was unnecessary. I don't need to be tested, you f-heads. Go inflict boils on someone if you're bored; I've gotten my share today.
After all, I had to drive to Columbia in a car that had a tire in the back seat, with a slowly thawing can of Fix a Flat attached to it, wondering if, as it thawed it would discharge just enough, or maybe so much that it would explode off the tire. It's not like I was in the clear. (Luckily by the time I got to Columbia, it had thawed enough to let me unscrew it from the tire. )
So, today I get a good day, right?