Sunday, December 21, 2008

Seething with Frustration

So I went to Price Chopper to pick up some sandwich meat, and noticed when I got home and pulled into the garage that one of my headlights is out. Sigh. Something else that has to be fixed right away. This along with the check engine light that’s been on since last week. Great, I'm a headlight down and having engine trouble during the Midwest Winter (cold and dark early every day), yay! Guess I’ll stop at the dealership first thing tomorrow morning to see if they can fit me in.

Great news! The Patriots won!! YES! But, when my boy Wes Welker made an innocent little snow angel in the end zone, he was penalized (see it here:! What?!? But the Dolphins (ptooie!) won, too ... the Chiefs were thisclose to pulling it off, but no! They had to tank ... again ... meaning my Patriots still may not make it into wild card position. Don't think I've forgiven the Chiefs for Brady, either ... they can't do anything right!

In case you missed it, I’m aggravated today. My mailbox fell apart weeks ago, and I have the replacement, but haven’t been able to put it up because somebody (who shall remain nameless) borrowed my drill last summer. Yes, that’s right … last ... summer … and has yet to return it, although I was promised that I would have it back this weekend ... again ... (this being the third or fourth weekend of my discontent). And it's not like I can stop at somebody's house on my way home from work, because somebody is never there!

This is the same drill I need to put up my used-to-be-new lined curtains, which I've had since July (bought in plenty of time to put them up for the Winter, but that little plan has been blown all to pieces), and which would be a great added line of defense against the freezing cold drafts that come in around my windows.

Yes, I’m venting … yes, I’m peeved. This is the same somebody who has my paper shredder. And backed my Durango into my not-quite-all-the-way-open garage door whilst pulling out two years ago and has yet to fix either the Durango or the garage door. And killed my dog. Okay, that last one isn’t fair. But still; the purpose of venting is to vent, not to be nice, and I guess I'm just not as over that as I pretend to be. Especially when I am aggravated!

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