Doing my favourite thing at 7:30am on a rainy day: taking the car for an (overdue) oil change. Life is just so glamorous sometimes. Maybe that’s why ‘Curb’ and ‘Louis’ are so popular – finding humour in the mundane should be the goal of more people. Life is generally ridiculous and people should embrace that more. It can’t be helped, so we might as well enjoy it.
Some of yesterday’s drama has settled down a bit, but eh, the future is overwhelming, isn’t it?
Luckily, no stress dreams, though woke up just having seen Julia Roberts win a Tony for a play performed in Paris and directed by someone odd (Friedkin? Lynch?). She spoke French. It was embarrassing.
Speaking of, how boring am I that my subconscious is only creative enough to come up with my watching an awards ceremony that I wouldn’t normally watch?
Sure, it made no sense, but there were no melting faces or cartoon elephants singing arias or volcanic eruptions of jam. C’mon, brain. We can do better than that.
Ugh, I am still waiting in the queue outside the garage, forgetting if I’m supposed to go in to say I’m here or not.
Convention bedamned, Robyn Bresnahan is talking to a fire spinner. I am not getting out of my car.
Oh, wait, yes I am. Here’s the 12-year-old mechanic. Damn.
One of the wisest things my boss told me is ‘Always be prepared for an oil change to cost $500′. He’s not wrong. Third brake light was out (didn’t know – I can’t see the back of my car when I’m driving) and the air filter was filthy.
Man, there is almost nothing less exciting than a mechanics’ waiting room. Everyone is staring into space, clutching their coffee like rosaries, perhaps praying to some higher power that the clunking noise doesn’t result in a technician’s shaming tut-and-headshake and selling a first-born child.
Oh, hey, the car’s ready and it cost me $418.04 less than I had planned.
(In 24 hours.)