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Last year: I was having conversations with imaginary people this morning. |
wrrr...rrr...r. wrrr...rrr...rr
Dad pulled his monster truck around and gave me a jump, then followed me to the Merchant's. Now, I suspect Merchant's of rigging things to fail so I'll bring the car back, but at least they always fix the initial problem. Though if I'd thought about it that much longer, I'd have taken the car to the dealership. They're the only place so far that I actually don't feel suspicious about. But of course they're always booked.
It being close to 5 by the time I dropped off the car, Merchant's couldn't fix the car yesterday. So I left it with them (let them jump it in the morning to move it) and called Matt to pick me up.
A little figuring in my head makes this battery something like four years old. And since I'm pretty sure I bought the cheapest battery possible the last time, it's probably only a three-year battery anyway. So I suspect the draining last Friday just killed it. I'm still trying to decide if I should call the body shop and demand that they pay for the new battery. (Naturally, the only battery Merchant's had in stock that fits my car is an expensive seven-year battery. I think it's time for me to buy a little notebook to keep in my glove compartment so I can write down what's under warranty and when things were last fixed and such. I keep all my receipts from when I get the car serviced (except for simple oil changes) but I don't usually have them on hand when I have to take the car to get it fixed.
My thumb looks much better today, despite the fact that blisters have raised around the spot where the skin was burned away. (Matt said, when I made that observation this morning, "That's better?!?") It also hurts much less, thank heavens.
I found out, doing a little surfing, that since I was having pain as a result of the burn, that it isn't actually a 3rd-degree burn, like I'd said yesterday. Third degree burns don't feel like anything, because one of the conditions of a third-degree burn is that the nerves under the skin are destroyed. So, since I dropped the clamp in time to avoid nerve damage, what I have is called a "deep second degree burn" - distinguished from a third degree burn by only two things: One, deep second degree burns hurt like hell, while third degree burns are always numb; and two, deep second degree burns will grow new skin, whereas even tiny third degree burns require skin grafts.
The website I was at suggested treating deep second degree burns like a third degree burn and using skin grafts, because if you let the skin just grow back, it scars terribly. But since this is just a tiny spot in the middle of the pad of my thumb, I don't care if it scars.
I forgot to tell you yesterday, while I was talking about my car, about Matt wearing his new Brooks Brothers suit to a meeting on Tuesday. He was nice enough to stay in the suit long enough for me to take a couple of pictures. So far, they're the only pictures in the September photo album, so by all means, go take a look!
When K.T. got her new haircut, she told me she'd gotten it cut shorter than my hair. When I saw the picture, I was indignant - it was not shorter than mine! Not even a little bit! Still longer, even!
Then I realized my hair's grown about two and a half inches in the past couple of months since I got it cut. I still think it's shorter than K.T.'s (if only because K.T.'s is curlier than mine), but it's closer than I thought. I've got an appointment today to get it trimmed back to where it should be.
I don't know why I can't ever remember to go to the hair stylist's on a regular basis. I guess because it's one of those non-urgent things. Nothing especially bad will happen if I put off going to the stylist for a few days, or a week, or even a month. So if I don't schedule an appointment as soon as I've had the last one, I'll just put it off until the tangles are so bad I'm ready to scream, or the bangs are past my chin.
I think this time I'll make a note in my Palm to make an appointment again in six weeks. I've found - somewhat astonishingly - that if I set an alarm in my Palm, I'll actually do it. (Though I neglected to water the plants last night. But that's because the alarm went off when I was still at the Merchant's. I need to reset it to go off tonight.)
Why, yes, I am an enormous geek.
Word of the Day: ex cathedra - by virtue of one's position or office
I must say, I had an amusing day yesterday, telling everyone about my car. Every male who walked into my office and heard the story felt compelled to offer, ex cathedra their maleness, an opinion on the problem. I heard at least four different possible causes, all pronounced with authority and certainty.
Luckily, they all boiled down to the same relatively simple solution: Replace the battery.
- between books
Current Projects:
- muttering about my car
Diet Progress: 11.5 lbs lost
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