I resisted getting Internet at home for so long. I have the tendency to get a bit (a lot) obsessive, and can’t do anything else until the feeling goes away. Earlier I had to sign off and turn the computer off before I lost more hours and possibly more money to eBay. (And hey, vulture … you know who you are, upping the bids on those butterfly pins … just stop it and let me replace the one I lost, please. Rant over now.) And now, here I am again, back on the computer because of my bad memory, so if I don’t write this now, I’ll forget it … Fun times …
Then again, I’m not sure how I would forget it (but I will, I know) … This was an exhausting and weird day, having had to wake up early to take Gertie (that would be my craptastic car) in for an oil change and tie rods I could no longer wait to replace. While I was at the shop (and to add on to the storm cloud over my head) it was pouring outside (and there was a little flooding, too), and I found out that the vibrations I’d dealt with on my trip home and back last weekend weren’t due only to the tie rods, but to my front tires, which were separating.
And yeah, we’ll blame part of that on my memory, too, since I usually remember to check stuff like that … my dad was a mechanic, and he would be embarrassed that I didn’t check it (sorry, Daddy!).
The shop’s tire warehouse isn’t open on Saturdays, so I had them do everything else ($362 and two and a half hours’ worth), then took myself down to Wally World for tires. The way they do things seems to change each time I have to go there (one of the reasons I rarely go there for anything of import other than tires when necessary), so I parked and went in to talk to the clerk. And spent the next five minutes staring.
No, he wasn’t particularly handsome (but not ugly) … it was just that he looked so familiar (and here’s another one of those rare times I wish I had a cell phone or a tiny camera with me all the time).
He looked like my brother Corey back when he was in hippie John Lennon mode, right down to the beard. The glasses were wrong, and he was skinnier, but other than that, it was Corey’s doppelganger from about seven years ago. (He has a LOT of doppelgangers for how he looks now … I never realized how many redheaded men are in Arkansas!)
I think I was still trying to convince myself that that wasn’t actually Corey in there when I was back in the lube-express line in the car and the person in front of me decided to back up. No fenders were bent, and nothing was damaged except a little peace of mind for both of us. (I had just completely frozen … I saw what was happening, but couldn’t figure out what to do for some reason!)
Yeah, that’s it. When all else fails, blame your brother. He’s sure to have done something wrong anyway.