Kats (wildrider) wrote,

  • Mood:

I has flat tire

Not that I wanted one. Going back to work this morning, I stopped for gas ($25 bought me SIX gallons) and noticed that my right rear tire was a little low. It's had a slow leak for a while, so I thought nothing more of it and just filled it, then bopped to work.

About 10 or so, Security called me to let me know my tire was flat -- as in FLAT, totally, pancake, empty of air, it was a non-tire now. So come the end of the day, after an hour overtime, I struggled to get out my spare only to find that when I bought my new tires, lo these many years ago now, apparently when they chose the best of the PREVIOUS bunch of tires to be the spare, they must have neglected to put my jack back. So I am jackless. Fortunately, a nice guy from claims volunteered both his strength and his own truck's jack, and he got the truck up and the spare put on in about twenty minutes or so (I know his face, of course, after all these years I know most everyone by sight, but I'm not sure of his name; he wasn't wearing his badge anymore). I drove up the garage ramp to fill the spare the rest of the way (we have an air pump on the roof of the garage for the fleet cars), and got home just around six.

Now, my OWN UNIT, my so-called "teammates," all asked me what I was going to do, but none volunteered to help. One fellow, my cube-mate, even, said he'd do it, if he were only wearing jeans. (The claims guy was in slacks.) I saw karma work, however, as his son called to say HE was stranded--with a flat tire. Heh. At least my cube-mate got the irony of that one.

But the tire, now... a few weeks ago when I had them checked and rotated, I was told I could probably make it until July. Not to much. There's a LOT of tread showing. I may take the bus for a while until I can afford tires, 'cause I'm willing to bet all of them are getting that bad. I'm just glad it happened at work and not on the freeway -- it was 112 degrees today, and will be 113 tomorrow. That does mean curtailing my plan to get back to the gym, though. *sigh*

The folks on my writer's list all seemed to like this:

Della Kelley has always taken her duty as a vampire hunter very seriously. Still, sometimes she just wants to get away and dance. She never imagined she’d choose a bar owned by a notorious “missing” vampire, Sean Patrick O’Connor, sired by the notorious Amanda. It certainly never crossed her mind that he’d take her hostage, determined to show her he is not the monster she believes him to be. From the rowdy honky-tonk in Burbank to the noise and lights of Las Vegas, Sean Patrick shows her a life she never had and never dreamed of, shaking the foundations of her structured upbringing and breaking down well-taught prejudices. Together they must battle both vampires and vampire hunters to discover everything they have in common, beginning an impossible friendship—and possibly, something far more. But Della just isn’t prepared for a vampire who stirs her deepest desires, and sends her tumbling headlong into a burning Ring of Fire.

Tags: work, writing
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