My car, whose transmission blew this afternoon.
The transmission which was previously replaced in July. And then repaired again in September.
If you are a faithful reader I don’t even need to link you back to the events of this summer. For you, this is like a bad film sequel: Transmission III: Stranded at Walgreen’s.
I am numb.
And now I’m really not sure how to get the grocery shopping done that still hasn’t happened since my run in at Aldi’s.
So, I’m boldly putting out the call to the Next Food Network Star and Overhaulin’. I could use some meals for the freezer along with that transmission.
Thanks. I’ll just wait here, trapped in my house. I’m the one sitting in the front window learning how to play my pink electric so that I can drown out my troubles with very loud songs.
Oh, and did I fail to mention that I got a few more bills from Humana today, denying some claims for Harper? Is there a show called,
We’ll Fight Your Insurance Company For You, So Just Sit Back, Relax, and Let Us Take it From Here, Because You’ve Spent Way Too Much Time Attempting to Reach Someone Who Can Give You a Straight Answer As To Why They Won’t Pay?
No? There should be. Time to pitch that one to the network. Though the title probably needs a little more work.
Cue primal scream.