We're expecting our first significant storm of the winter in my neck of the woods tonight. It looks like it won't be too bad here; the latest forecast is predicting less than a foot of snow by the time all is said and done. Oswego County, this won't be.
But I broke down and had my snow tires put on today. As usual, I'm pretty confident in my ability to handle snowy roads; it's all the other morons out there who have me concerned. But the greatest thing? For the first time in all my years living in the Northeast, I don't have to worry about snow removal!
Last winter, my lease required me to shovel my own driveway -- and I didn't have covered parking, so that added to the hassle. So when I moved in the spring, I made sure to find a place that had covered parking AND snow removal. (Bonus: I don't have to pay for heat at this place, either.)
My bigger concern was finding my boots, which I mounted an unsuccessful search for a couple of weeks ago when we had a very minor storm. I resumed the quest last night and this morning, tearing through a couple of boxes and closets. I finally remembered that the probably were in my car's trunk, where I had stashed them with a couple of other last-minute items from my last move.
(Yes, that was in May. And yes, that's how infrequently I have a need to go into my trunk. I usually put the groceries in the back seat.)
Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
On the juice, it seems
In a somewhat mysterious feat of strength, I managed to rip the handle off the inside of the driver's door of my car on Saturday night. The car door had gotten hung up on the sidewalk, and I pulled a little too hard.
Although my friends Grande and C. found this rather amusing, I did not. (OK, it was a little funny.)
Even though I am trying not to think about how much this is going to cost to fix, I am reminded every time I hop into the car and, without thinking, yank the handle right off again as I try to close the door.
(For you astute readers out there: Yes, I did decide the logical thing to do a mere 17 hours after getting off a flight from Asia was to drive 4 1/2 hours to my hometown.)
Although my friends Grande and C. found this rather amusing, I did not. (OK, it was a little funny.)
Even though I am trying not to think about how much this is going to cost to fix, I am reminded every time I hop into the car and, without thinking, yank the handle right off again as I try to close the door.
(For you astute readers out there: Yes, I did decide the logical thing to do a mere 17 hours after getting off a flight from Asia was to drive 4 1/2 hours to my hometown.)
***
Update (1/30/07): I went to the VW dealer yesterday. My show of strength is going to cost me $126 to repair. Yay.