Shit Thursday

Today was a shit Thursday. I woke up at 7:00 to find that my car was in the garage. This would usually be a good thing, but not today. Michael was supposed to take it to this little garage on his way to work. He forgot. So I had to hurry up and get it there because we had an appointment. I didn't even get to shower. So I drive 40 miles to this garage and start to drop my vehicle off. There is nothing really wrong with my car. It felt like it's braking system might not be up to snuff. Michael and I are leaving for Vegas on Friday so I just wanted to make sure.

When you drive the same car everyday, you notice when the slightest thing changes. I felt the car beginning to vibrate a little and it was a lot less smooth of a ride. Tom, of Tom's Garage, drove my car and proceeds to tell me there is nothing wrong with my car. Good right? Not in this case because even though I am no auto mechanic, I can tell you there is something wrong, or about to go wrong. He tells me that I have to bald rear tires and that may be accounting for the symptoms I am experiencing. I asked him if he could change them and he didn't have my tires in stock. He referred me to Discount Tire.

I started to head to the Discount Tire I always go to when Michael called and I proceeded to tell him what at occurred at the garage. He persuades me to go to the Discount Tire near his work in Scottsdale. So I go there. I pull up, wait in line, and then find out that they don't have the tire I need either. WTF? All they sell is tires, and I drive a pretty common car. They say they have a similar tire that has less of a warranty but is very comparable. I am so fucking pissed off at this point. I don't want 4 different types of tires on my car. If cars have to have their wheels aligned, balanced, and rotated it seems to me it is in the best interest to have all the same size, weight, and tread tires. So I asked the guy if any other of the Discount Tires have it in stock. This is a huge chain here. Yes, two have them in stock, but they are located far away. There is one on Bell Rd. and one on Cactus. They each only have one, so I would have to go to both locations. Motherfuckers. So I called Michael to tell him what's going on. He tells me to just have them put on the ones they have. So I do. I am told it will take an hour at the longest.

Seven minutes before the hour is up my car gets pulled into the bay. Michael is calling me asking me if I want to meet for lunch. I am starving. I haven't even eaten breakfast on account of all this car drama. I am angry with him. I tell him I will call him back. We decide to meet for lunch.

He has apologized. I appreciate it, but it isn't helping the fact that my day is now fucked. He has nothing to talk about. I am too irritated to carry the conversation today. It is a nice but quiet lunch. As I am dropping Michael off at work I slowly step on the brakes and a loud squeal screams out. I look at Michael and say, "Yeah, there is nothing fucking wrong with my car." We switch sides so he can drive. He hears and feels the noise. He determines that it is not a big deal. He thinks it is either brake dust or and indication of an upcoming problem. I tell him we are about to drive 1000 miles in this car and if it is an indication of an upcoming problem I really don't want it to occur during this next 1,000 miles. He starts squabbling with me and then tells me if I want to have it fixed to take it back to the fucking garage. I was so mad at him I said, "Thanks for the fucking advice!" I then drove off. I didn't say goodbye or I love you or anything.

I decided that if the three people who looked at it determined nothing was wrong, maybe nothing is wrong. I mean I drive it everyday how could I be right. The brake dust theory started to settle into my head. I decided to take care of a few errands while I was in the area. The squeak stopped. I felt this was more conformation that it was indeed brake dust. After an hour, I was headed home. All of the sudden the car started squealing and grinding when I stepped on the brakes. "That is it!", I screamed at the top of my fucking lungs.

I turned around and went back to shit fuck's garage. I called the other shit fuck and told him what I was doing. He agreed and tried to calm me down. I pulled up to the garage and they were swamped. I walked in the door and said, "Look I am not crazy. I had two new tires put on like you suggested and now my car is squealing and grinding on the front driver's side." Before I had a chance to say more. He told the guy in the garage to lower and back someone else's car out of the garage and get mine right in there. He told me he would check it out. He did. I have to tell you I was impressed. He checked my brake assembly and told me everything is safe and fine. The only thing he could see was the last person who worked on my brakes didn't machine my rotors. I was very relieved. I asked him what I owed him and he told me nothing. I wanted to give him something. He was in the middle of working on someone else's vehicle. He dropped what he was doing to help me. I tried to throw a ten at him, but he wasn't having it. We finally agreed that I would play it for him in Vegas. I told him if he won a jackpot I would be back with his ten.

On the way home I think I was about to have a meltdown. I stopped and ran some more errands. It was a long night too. I have to "prepare" the house for our departure. I think that sometimes I can be a little over anal about this process, but I am not being that way this time. I don't want to come home to starving, stinky cats or rotten milk. Yes, I am only going for four days and three nights, but my milk expires on Saturday.

I think I might have been a little too hard on Michael. I did except his apology, but I wasn't my usual calm and understanding self. I had just had a conversation with him the night before about being more considerate. Now don't get the wrong idea. Michael is very thoughtful and considerate when it comes to me. What I mean by considerate is pertaining to the following. Michael sometimes drives my car. It is usually from home to the garage and then from the garage to home. That is very considerate of him. What is not considerate is that he lowers my tilt steering wheel and then doesn't put it back. Another example would be the last time he borrowed my cell phone. He came with me to the job fair, but didn't want to wait around while I took a test. It was very considerate to come with me and very understandable that he didn't want to wait around. He decided to change the setting on my cell phone though. He never changed it back. These little things added up day-by-day start to wear on me. Maybe it's because I am the opposite way. When I borrow his car and I see trash in there I pick it up and throw it away for him. I just constantly feel like I am always starting below zero. I always have to pick something up before I can start a project. I don't want it to be this way anymore.

Maybe I am just a cranky girl. I don't know. I do know that I definitely did not want to be around me yesterday. I am sorry Michael. I just can't handle all this stuff. I didn't mean to be so mean. You know I have a problem expressing anger. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just want to have some fun in Vegas this weekend. I am just warning you, I am going to get plowed.