I don’t have any funny bus stories tonight, interwebs. It’s been one of those days. Yes, I took the bus to work and home, because, well, the car still isn’t ready. I talked to a guy on the bus this morning who remembers when staff parking was $15 a year. I pay that every month now. It’s much more for one of the prime spots, I work in what was a cow pasture a few years ago.

My car. I love my car. We’ve owned it for over 20 years. You get attached after all that time. Even so it is just a machine, just a way for me to get around. Here’s the thing, though: I kinda depend on it. I need to get to work, appointments, the store, take the kids places. I don’t like it when it’s broken, but if I think back over the last 21 years it has been very, very dependable.

So I’ve been car-less for a week. Talking to the shop this afternoon, I may have it back by this time next week. It won’t be cheap. It should fix the problem. Then I can quit bitching about it for a couple / more years until something else breaks. Meanwhile I’m thinking about looking for a part time job. Hopefully involving alcohol, and maybe sleeping. One can dream, right?

Meanwhile, tonight I borrowed the van and went to the grocery store with two of my kids (the fridge, she was bleak), then McDonalds (where my son ate half my salad in addition to his Happy Meal) and finally we’re home. Big breath. I’m worn out from this week at work (covering for someone on vacation), worry about the car, worry about money, just worry.

Worry doesn’t help anything, does it? It’s like a rocking chair, it gives you something to do but doesn’t get you anywhere.

Right now I’m between a child with an Ipod and a child munching on grapes, who keeps trying to tune my (cable) television to channels that are only available on DirecTV. It’s after my bedtime, and I haz wine.

Ah, life is sweet.