Well, I’d been complaining about not having anything worth posting about.  So, go figure, today would make up for the lack of material lately.  Still nothing horribly eventful, but definitely enough to throw a wrench in my day.

I already knew I was going to be late for work approximately a half hour before I needed to be there.  I hadn’t even made it into the shower yet.  So, I hurry my tush into the shower, get out and get dressed.

After hurrying to put on my shoes and socks, I say my goodbyes to Tom and walk out the front door…  to realize my car has a flat tire.

Niiiiice.

So, I walk back inside and tell Tom I’ve not got time to mess with my flat tire, and I’m going to take the van.  I walk back outside, get in the van, go to turn it on and…. nothing.  The battery is dead.  Again.

Superb.

Paul moves my car slowly over to in front of the van to jump start it, which it does with no issue.  I check over everything in the van and see that I’m nearly out of gas.

Really?

After talking to Tom about moving limited monies from one bank account to another, I drive the van to the nearest gas station, turn off the van and proceed to put every penny I can spare into the gas guzzler.  I get back into the van, call Tom to discuss whether or not to come back to the house and get the bad tire.  I turn the key… and its dead, again, already.

Honestly?

I tell Tom I’ll call him back, get out of the van, get the jumper cables out of the back of the van, pop the hood and look pitifully at the man filling his tank next to me.  He nods understandingly and, after he’s done pumping his gas, jump starts the van.

Thank God.

Once the van is started, it is decided that I should come back to the house and get the stupid tire because I know the shop I use will have to order one in anyhow.  I get home, leave the van RUNNING, and ask Paul to take the tire off the car.

Okay.

Except that I have a gravel drive way.  The foot of snow has finally melted making everything in my neighborhood the largest mud pie on the face of the Earth.  The jack sinks a smidge into the muck, but we’re able to get the car raised up enough to finagle the tire off the car – which, mind you, had no desire to come off the car.  I can see my car ever so gracefully sliding backwards.  As if in slow motion, the car sliiiiiides off the jack, allowing my car to come to rest on the driveway with a low thud.

Seriously?

Thankfully the car slid slowly, and the muck under the car allowed a nice cushioning for the frame.  We (by we, of course, I mean Paul) jack back up the car a little bit and slowly release it onto a 4×4 scrap piece of wood.

After inspecting the tire, which I was hoping only need a plug, it was immediately decided that the tire was not fixable.  This was made obvious by the lack of tread on the inner side of the tire.

Of course.

Finally, I take the (still running) van to the tire shop my dad told me to use years and years ago.  I drop the tire off, knowing the new one won’t be in until noon tomorrow.  I stop by my mom’s to pick up a check (because she loves me) to pay for a new tire because I am super duper broke.  I leave the van running while I go inside.

(Thank goodness for my mother, is all I have to say!)

Finally, 2 hours after I started out my door, I head in to work.  Aaaah.  Strange that I’m thankful to be at work, yes?  But, I am.

Work = money.

Money = need.

And, although my day sucked, it could of been so much worse.  This I know for fact.

I could of been on the highway before I realized my tire was flat.  I could of not been able to find anyone willing to jump start the van.  The driveway could of been dry, causing a hard landing for my car – and Paul was no where close to my car when it slid off the jack.

So, strangely, I’m thankful.

But, at the same time, I’m super irked.

Make sense to you?