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I was going to mock the Illinois governor, Blagojevich, for being such a tool, but it hardly seems worth it. People don’t seem to care – and the ones who do care don’t do anything about it. But that’s a whole other blog post.

This one is all about me, my adventures, and my unplanned day off. Things have been going so well lately that I should have known my luck was about to run out. It’s been a very, very tight Christmas season (holiday season for you wankers who get picky about it), but with some creative budgeting, I have managed to stay about $20 ahead of the game. My shopping is done, my bills are paid and I have food in the house. Plus $20.

Then it snowed. And iced. I was wearing a pair of very practical winter-wear shoes – also called ballet slippers. I left work a few minutes early to get a jump on the traffic – and good thing I did. Otherwise I might have hit a car instead of a metal thing sticking out of the median. Oh, wait, I got ahead of myself.

I tried to open the driver’s door, but it wouldn’t budge. In extreme cold the door lock freezes and if I can get the door open, it won’t latch when I try to close it. So I gave up and climbed in the passenger side. That was just the beginning.

I hit a slick spot and slid – there’s really nothing you can do in that situation except pray you don’t hit anything. I did this by yelling “Fuck!” at the top of my lungs. I didn’t hit another car (yay) but I did roll up on the median and kept going … I saw the metal thingie as I was slowing, and I thought I was going to stop before I ran over it. As it turned out, I was wrong.

A man stopped to help me and changed the tire for me. I didn’t feel I should sit in the warm car while he froze his ass off, so I waited outside – in the snow and the whipping wind, in my ballet slippers. He put the little donut tire on, but it was flat. Of course. So I had to call a tow truck. When I got back into the car to wait, I realized I had left my window down – and now the seat was wet from the snow. So I had wet pants and wet shoes. There was chafing involved – I’m repressing that memory.

The tow truck arrived, got me hooked up (the car, not me personally) and we were on our way. Only he didn’t want to stay on the highway so he took a shortcut – which added miles, of course. Miles that they were charging for. Then he confessed he didn’t really know where he was going. So I gave him directions and then he argued with me and called the dispatcher to verify that he was wrong and I was right. He had a police scanner and two other radios and somehow was keeping track of all the conversations. His boss was talking to him and two other drivers – and saying “fuck” every other word. So, in a burst of inspiration, I pulled a page from MoC’s playbook. I leaned forward and said, “You are going to give me a discount because I’ve had to listen to such nasty language, aren’t you?” I said it very sweetly and very sincerely. And it worked!

At the tire place, I told the guy I had a warranty but that I didn’t have it with me. When he told me I had to have the little sticker they put on the receipt, I looked distressed – which was not hard. He went out to the garage and when he came back he told me he “found” it in my glove box – and saved me a little money (that I didn’t have anyway).

This morning, I decided I wasn’t going to kill myself trying to get to work on time. It was so cold that when I went out to start my car, I tried the passenger side because I knew the driver’s door wouldn’t latch again if I got it open. But the passenger door-lock was frozen solid. I should have turned around right then and gone back in the house. But I’m stubborn, so I got the driver’s door open and started the car – and the goddamn door wouldn’t close. There’s really nothing you can do except pray that the car warms up fast – which I did by yelling “FUCK!” at the top of my lungs.

My car doesn’t have a handle on the inside of the door – it has an indentation. Trying to drive – in ice and snow – with one hand on the wheel and your fingers in the door indentation trying to hold it closed for over 20 miles is not fun. I know, because I’ve actually been stupid enough to do it. I’m not that dedicated to my job anymore.

I called my boss and told her I wasn’t going to be in. Then I let my car run for about 40 minutes – the door finally latched and the passenger door is now going to be unlocked permanently. I just have to pray that it doesn’t get stolen, which I do by yelling, “Don’t do me any fucking favors!”

I just now remembered that today is “call in gay” day to protest the gay marriage debacle issue.

Ha! I’m calling my boss again to tell her it’s not really about my car – I’m just too gay to work today.