Sunday, August 7, 2011


On Thursday when I got into my car after work I heard the sound every girl dreads when turning the key in the ignition.... nothing. Dead. Silence.

I cried. Then I pulled it together and went back up to the office in search of a boy who could help. At which point I cried more. At which point my boss overheard and said, "you know that when a car dies it isn't actually dead right?"


Anyway, after 30 minutes of attempting to jump my car my father-in-law came to my rescue with a new battery. All was right in the world except when I turned on my car a weird clicking noise (almost like a ticking clock) appeared. I drove straight to a repair shop where upon exiting the vehicle I realized my directional lights were blinking intermittently. I left my car overnight and ultimately found out what the problem was. Kind of. Something about fuses and connections and wires (oh my!). 1 1/2 hours after my normal arrival time I walked in the door, exhausted and frazzled.

Breakfast for dinner was just what the doctor ordered. After pulling my mess of a self off the floor, Jon made the token Flip breakfast. Homemade hash browns and lunch meat slathered in cheese and eggs, all sauteed up into one giant scramble. It looks like cat puke but it tastes like heaven. How did I get so lucky?

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