Next up, a plague of locusts

What kind of day was it? Verily I say unto you, it was the kind of day where I thought "Well, at least I have a blog so I can write about all this badness" but then I thought "But I only have an hour before I go to bed and I don't know if I can write it all down in just one hour."

So.

This morning I got up and started doing dishes. I poured out yesterday's coffee and almost a whole bottle of wine (yes, I know that wrecks my credentials as a dyed-in-the-wool lush because a real drunk never wastes alcohol, but it just wasn't very good. Beaujolais-Villages).

The drain started running slowly...can you hear the shark music playing?

DUH-NUH. DUH-NUH.

I walked into the bathroom and the former contents of the kitchen sink now occupied the bathroom sink. Coffee, wine, hot soapy water, bits of verdure, oat flakes...oh it was glorious. And stinky! Hot coffee wine soap water at 6:30 AM!

I had to leave to take the car to the shop because of the busted white trash car window. I asked the shop to finish ASAP because Goldie's ear was swelling up I had to get her to the vet, and they gladly agreed.

I got the shuttle home and called the vet.

Suebob: Can I have a late afternoon appointment?
Vet office girl: How about noon? Is noon ok?
Suebob: I was thinking of something late in the afternoon. Do you have anything later?
Vet office girl: One PM?
Suebob: Have you begun to reproduce yet? Because I will pay you to not contribute to the gene pool.

Ok, maybe I didn't say that exact last sentence. But.

We settled, after some several rounds of further negotiation, on 4:50 pm.

Then the auto shop called. Of course they did. And was the car done? No it was not.

They called to tell me that the thieves not only broke the $335 window (genuine Honda parts and labor), they also broke the little arm that attaches the window motor to the window.

The little arm is a part that the shop does not stock, but somewhere in a galaxy far, far away does and can FedEx it at an enormously large charge so I can have my car back sometime before the next Pleiades meteor showers. And it isn't going to be $335 any more but now it will be more like twice that. Haha.

"Can I at least have my car back until then?" I asked plaintively. I was plaintive by that point.

No, because the door was in pieces. Of course. So I had to rent a car to take my dog to the vet.

Please read that sentence again and absorb the full fun content. I had to rent a car to take my dog to the vet.

I mean, it could be worse. I could live under the Taliban. But it still seems to be adding insult to injury. Because my car got robbed and broken so some crackheads could steal a free gym bag and dirty socks, I had to rent a car to take my sick dog to the vet. That ain't right.

And when I asked the rental place for their oldest, dirtiest beater because I was going to be transporting a large, furry, drooly beast in their rental auto, they said "All we have is this really nice one with a black leather interior."

Oh, leather -- like the leather seats that Goldie punctured with her claws in the exMrStapler's car? Why, yes, leather seats just like that.

(I am not going to mention my work day other than to say: If people would just listen to me the first time, things would not go like they do. But no.)

So I lined the interior of the car with bathroom rugs and sheets and comforter covers and put t-shirts over the seats - basically anything I could find to keep Goldie from befouling the interior of the rental car - and took her to the vet, where she had her aural hematoma drained, the one that the vet had said on Saturday would probably drain itself. But no, it didn't.


Click thru and look how thick her ear is. Eeew.

$100.93 worth of drainage. So I'm down $850 for the day, more or less, and the plumbing is still backed up because I just can't deal with it today. Can not.

But dinner with your BFF will cure everything, right? And it almost did. CC and I talked and laughed over Vietnamese food for 2 hours, which was great -- until we came out and found her keys locked in her car in the dark and lonely parking lot.

No. No! Yes.

Triple A, phone call, half an hour. Done. We called the tow truck driver, Chris, "our hero" and gave him a hug and he blushed nicely.

So that was my day. My dog's ear is flat, my car is still broked, my dad is alive and well, and I...I am surviving. How are you?