This past weekend was what I would call shitty in pretty much every way imaginable (other than nobody died – or at least nobody I know died). I’m too exhausted, disgusted, tired, stressed, and even nauseated to spell it all out. It involved cars, car repair, and, uh, the reason I should neve actually consider doing anything. Let’s just say shit broke, I had wrong parts, I was so sore and tired from 12 hours worth of grovelling on the garage floor that I couldn’t sleep on Saturday, I found more problems on Sunday which made it impossible to sleep last night, and I was waiting for something terrible to happen on my way in this morning. It didn’t, so now I can spend the ride home anticipating something bad on the way home. I’m just too old and tired and poor for this shit.