So I'm sitting here in my darkish living room avoiding taking my car to get the tire repaired. I'm thinking of all the ways I can prolong this repair. I've been driving around with a nail in there for a couple weeks now. Things are going ok, but I've had to put air in a couple times.
I'm afraid that one of the main reasons I want a husband is so he can take care of things like this. I love the fact that my car reliably gets me where I need to go, but the maintenance (little that there is) drives me crazy. Oil changes, washing, small repairs. Time I'd rather spend blogging on the internet, reading, sleeping, or shopping. Argh...I'll have to bring it to Sears tomorrow since that's the only place open on Sundays. I love/hate my car.