***Of course, being how today is…this post decided to publish YESTERDAY…even though YESTERDAY it didn’t exist. I think I fixed it now…Stupid…damn…wordpress.***
Excuse me while I go on my own little mini-rant. I’ve done NOTHING today…other than shit. So if I don’t say it here…then I’ll say it somewhere else…and that somewhere else is at the dinner table where I will subsequently get my ass handed to me, cause I suck at debating. And I lose. Every. Single. Time. Tim is Mr. Eloquence and leaves me all, “uhh…I SO HAD A POINT…somewhere…” Then he wins. Here, you can’t yell back at me until AFTER I’M DONE…and by that point I already feel loads better.
Yesterday when Tim came home from work, he was all, “something is wrong with my tire. The car is yelling at me to fix it.”
Obviously, he isn’t fixing the tire. He isn’t allowed…cause I won’t let him. And I hate car “issues.” Everything – including getting gas – about a car is a problem unless it is taking me somewhere I want to go.
Now, let’s have a small history lesson: When we bought Tim’s car last year, I INSISTED he get the extra tire warranty, cause he is a damn magnet for metal and nails and anything that can crack a windshield or flatten a tire.
We bought his car in January.
And, after discovering a metal shard in his tire last night, I spent my morning and half of my afternoon at the dealership…the dealership that is FIFTY DAMN MILES AWAY…ONE HUNDRED MILES ROUND FUCKING TRIP…so his tires could be replaced…for the THIRD TIME.
THE THIRD DAMN TIME.
That warranty has already paid for itself.
Why replaced? Why not just shove some of that Fix-A-Flat into his tire and call it a success?
Because they are run-flat tires.
And there is no patching or shoving of anything in run-flat tires.
Because then they explode.
And I’ve been told that’s a bad thing.
Oh, did I mention that sitting around and waiting for a car to be repaired is on my blacklist of things I refuse to do at all costs?
Did I also mention that traffic is something I hate so much that it caused me to quit one job and for another, I left every morning at 4:30 am to avoid it?
Traffic is also on the blacklist. I will drive through a damn pasture with cow shit before I sit behind cars that aren’t moving.
And, since we’re on a roll…
Laundry is a chore from the devil. Followed closely by doing the dishes.
Neither are EVER “DONE” and I swear if you so much as THINK about putting a spoon or a pair of damn underpants into what I JUST EMPTIED…
You better pray you can run faster than my arm can throw.
I do not enjoy making will not make anything with lots of tiny, little pieces…my mom has a “build-your-own doll house” from when I was like, five. And it’s still in the box.
Picking up voicemail?
Every time I see I have one, the first thing I ask myself is: Who is it and what are the odds they’ll call again?
Cause if there’s at least a 50% chance they will, I’ll just let that voicemail sit its little ass in my mailbox for eternity.
I’ll only check when I think it may be important…and once I have the gist of the message…delete.
Activities involved in being patient…sucky.
Actually, it’s anything that I HAVE to do that I don’t WANT to do.
That’s where we run into a problem and my panties get all in a wad and I’m a massive pain in the ass.
There’s a simple solution, really.
DON’T MAKE ME DO IT.
Then, everyone’s I’m happy.
And we like happy.