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Monday, November 01, 2004
Trying to Fix What Ails Me (and My Motherfucking Car) Friday, I told the story of a sick toddler. Shortly after the story was posted to the intarweb, it became a story of a sick father (and the continuing saga of a sick mother). Chapter 2 started with that generalized “queasy” feeling as I was leaving work and turned to a full-blown “pre-nausea” as I was contemplating going to see The Start when Michelle came home from her opening slot. Saturday was a lovely ride of ricocheting between “severe acid reflux / Ashlee Simpson” and “mild nausea.” When the awfulness abated somewhat, I made myself get up and clean stuff. I actually swept and mopped approximately 80% of the house (all hardwood and tile) and rearranged part of our bedroom. And then got to take a nap and/or watch some late-afternoon football.* To make myself feel more human, here’s a short list of the things I took: -- Mylanta -- Maalox Max -- Tagamet HB -- Ibuprofen** -- Pepcid*** MEANwhile, my car is anything BUT normal. Apparently, there have been two updates to the A/C-related equipment, one of which (windshield grommets) helps keep the A/C water drain from getting clogged (replaced last time). This time, my A/C fan is shot, so they have to replace it (not in stock), and I have to go back in a week; the even-more-recently updated equipment comes with the fan. The HOPE is that all the new shit will keep standing water from collecting in my floorboards, and my car from smelling like New Jersey. I felt a little bad for being a prick to the service-counter girl at the Mitsubishi dealership, but I was JUST THERE WITH THE SAME PROBLEM LESS THAN A MONTH AGO. And THEN she goes for the hard sell on a new brake job, a tune-up, and a 30,000-mile service (at $400!). I can only imagine my posts for the remainder of the week will be election-related. But, being where I am (the epicenter of election scandal in 2000), you could get some first-hand accounts of the post-election legal fallout. Let’s all pray to Baby Jesus that it doesn’t come to that. * Damn Seminoles. ** For my set-your-clock-back headache that kept me up half the night. *** This is the WMD for the lingering stomach acid; I never got around to using it. |