On Gasoline

A quick story that appears to have a happy ending.

Tuesday on my way home from work I decided to swing by the ole gas station and fill up the tank. Now, despite knowing that I can get away with using the 86 octain gas, I opt for 93. It's just something I have always done. It made the Camry run great for all those years after all. Well it seems the 40 dollars I put in my tank isn't exactly what one would call fuel so much as water.*

So, armed with my new tank of water I proceeded to drive 3.3 miles down the road, at which point the water simply wasn't enough to make the ole Volvo go. I really thought my car was efficent, but I suppose it ain't no hybrid... So I am now stuck in the left turn lane on the corner of Houston Levee and Macon.

I get my car towed to the dealership. I am feeling pretty ok at this moment because I am proud of myself for having gotten the extended warranty. Hey did you know that extended warranties don't cover putting bad fuel in your car? True story.

The next day I get a ride over to the gas station, at which point I find out that many other folks have ended up with this same problem. Luckily the guy who owns the station is a nice enough fellow, and he claimed that they would cover all of my expenses**. So I leave somewhat secure in the knowledge that I am going be getting my money back. Then the ole Volvo dealership calls to inform me that my car is going to cost about 1400 dollars to fix.

If you heard a loud sound about 11:45 AM on Wednesday Feb 10th, that was my heart flying into my throat. Luckily I was able to come up with cash to get my car out of the shop.

Here is the really really crazy part, a mere three days after putting the bad gas in my car, my car is completely fixed and I have already been payed back by the gas stations insurance company. Who says large chain corparations are bad***?

It seems that if I had used the 86 I would have gotten actual fuel. Only the 93 and the 89 had a problem.

**Note: I didn't really believe the guy at the time, because...well...I am the kind of guy who randomly ends up with a tank full of water. Things don't always go as planned is what I am saying.


***I do that's who. Though this time they worked in my favor

Every God Damn Day of My Life

Oh, and it's not just e-mail. It is ever aspect of my life.

It's the little things that you notice

It's when you wake up in the middle of the night b/c you suffer from insomnia (which is most likely really sleep apnea) and you look to the spot where your dog should be and she isn't.

It's when you wake up in the morning, and you go into your standard routine and you say, without even opening your eyes, "Hey wanna go outside?" Only to realize your talking to yourself.

You then try and remember if you got drunk the night before and simply forgot her outside again.

It's knowing that you have been drunk for days, but in fact she isn't outside. At least not outside your house.

It's when you're out with friends all day, and you think to yourself, "Oh I need to get home so I can...do nothing...do nothing at all. I have no reason to hurry home."

It's when you're at work and realize you could get a lot done if you stayed the extra hour, but know you can't because you need to let...no one out. You have no one at home needing to go out.

It's when you go to the grocery store for the first time, and you see the pet food isle and I think to yourself, "Do I need dog food?" Then the harsh reality of the word 'No.' sets in.

It's looking at your floor every few minutes to see that her dog bed is still there with the last dog biscuit you ever gave her.

The biscuit is still there because you realized that she was too weak to even eat it.

It's when you still walk past her food bowl every single time you go into the kitchen.

It's her toys still randomly being around the house because you simply can't bring yourself to pick the damn things up.

It's knowing you need to return the kennel you have had on loan for so many damn years now that you can't even remember*, but some how you're not able to do that.

Finally it's going to the mail box, opening it up and seeing a letter from the Vet who had to put your dog to sleep. Reading the sappy religious quote on the front, and knowing that God still gives you little comfort because you can't shut down your brain enough to buy into it.** Then opening the card to see hand written notes to you (from both Vets) and knowing that you don't have the strength to read them. So you throw it in your car so that you can continue pretending it never happened.

And the hardest moment of all is walking into the now painfully empty home.

*Thanks Patrick, I'll get it back to you soon.


**Not saying you have to be dumb to believe in God. I am saying there are things that I think and know that make it damn near impossible for me. Though I have been wrong about things in the past. Well...once anyways, but it turned out later I was right.

An Homage if you will

Safeguy use to do this thing called inflamitory fridays on his site. I believe the tradition has died, and while I don't plan to make this a weekly thing*, I felt this would be fun. So in his honor I point out how dumb this head line is.

"Eliminate Violence Against Women? Get the Boys on Board"

Here's a grand idea...how about we just end violence ok?


*Hell I barely write some weeks.

I am actually this sad.

I love watching and reading about baseball. Except today. The idea that the Yankees just won their 27th World Series pains me so much that I am avoiding all baseball websites so far today. I know it won't last through the day, but for now it must. Congrats to Doug's God Damn Team.


p.s.
They didn't buy the championship people. Half the freaking team is home grown. They just find the best free agent they can and sign them. You wish your team could do the same. Stop hating.

Was in which I am idiot

That 3 miles into a semi long bike I realize that I have forgotten my water bottle at home and that it is in fact 96 degrees outside and that the thermometer in the car was not lying.