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Unusually bad St. Patrick's Day

For one reason another, I had a wicked string of great St. Patrick's Day in the past. Not that I planned it that way, it just always seemed like the fabled luck of the Irish was with me. Not so much yesterday.

Work is work, 'nuff said. But leaving, I found I had a flat front tire. No problem, I'll change for the spare. Only it turns out the spinny-handle-lug-nut thingy on the jack was missing, so I couldn't change the tire.

No problem, I'll just get Herself to bring over her jack. But for some mysterious reason there was no response from her.

No problem, I'll call AAA. But wait, I don't have my AAA card.

No problem, I'll call Herself to tell me the AAA number. See previous MIA problem.

So finally I gave up and went back to work. I dug around and found an old AAA card in my desk, fortunately - and called them. They had a curious amount of trouble finding where I work, which given that it's a huge building at the Howard Hughes Center shouldn't be too difficult. Finally after two hours of trying everything imaginable, I finally got my tire swapped.

I got home to find Herself utterly sacked out, dead asleep since 5pm, something she's never done before. The dog verified for me that she was not actually comatose though, so it was all just bad timing.

Not much to be spritely about yesterday....but no lasting harm done either, so it could have been a lot worse.


monkey pirate
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