A lesson in the politics of car trouble

The sickness is gone except for the intense pain I feel in my ears every morning. I hope this isn't permanent, like when my brother got his wisdom teeth removed and STILL has a numb lip, months later.

On a more positive note (yeah, right), my car is dead, at almost 190,000 miles. It's been a good, reliable car actually, but is so old and just has too many problems. I haven't had it looked at, but I know the brakes, engine and perhaps the fuel pump are all dead and/or dying. My car died today in the middle of the road. Of course I got the gratuitous slew of long, angry honkings and swervings out from behind my suffering dump of a car- statements of intolerance that most busy, important people are willing to show for the 3.5 seconds they wasted, sitting behind someone whose engine was sputtering and coughing it's last moments. Nobody has 3.5 seconds in this life to waste, at least the more important people don't, as I was shown. And heaven forbid they have to wait through another light. If they did, I fully expected them to personally exit their own cars, push my car to the side of the road, rip off my windshield wiper and stab it through my engine and then my jugular.

I love people, I really do. They are always so kind and understanding. For every 100 lovingly decent (and by lovingly decent, I mean shitty) people out there however, there are always at least 2 who grudgingly will spend their 3.5 seconds to help you push your car to the gas station that really was actually just 10 feet away from the spot your car died. And I thanked them.