I, like Arthur Dent before me, could never really get the hang of Thursday's.
That's why, this morning, when I wandered into our temperature controlled parking garage to discover that our car wouldn't start, I wasn't really all that surprised. Sure, we're not outside in the sub-zero, arctic front that all the local weathermen insist on calling "the Deep Freeze" (the graphics are really fabulously bad) but, on a Thursday morning, I expect nothing less. First, I phone call to my Dad - i.e., the car doctor. (Turn your headlamps and cough, please.) Then, to my sister-in-law - i.e., "Hey....how far are you from work right now and how do you feel about getting a little farther? We'll go back, I swear!" Then, to the office to tell them that my sister-in-law was a little too far from work to get us both there on time so I was going to be late all by myself.
When superman showed up, battery pack in tow I was all ready for him to MacGyver the car back together but it didn't go quite like I planned. Apparently, the starters bad. But that's a problem for after work.
So, thus begins my weekend. In the mean time, Superman gave us his car so we can all get to work and class where needed.
All in all, it's good times.
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