I wrote a poem a few years ago, I think it’s corny by the standards I write now, but it was called “Monday” or “Mondays”… I can’t remember. But the point of the poem was how much I dislike Mondays and it had a basic rhyming scheme. Well, it was also one of the first poems I started incorporating punch lines, or just a significant ending line to really close out the poem. And the ending (punch)line, rephrased, is that for whatever reason, if I bypassed the trials of whatever usually takes place on Monday, I still have trouble because there’s always Tuesday.
Took me a while to make the point, I apologize… But the latest not so great news is once again concerning Sam the car, when a supposedly off-duty cop on a motorcycle pulled up next to me around the corner from my house and told me that my brake lights aren’t working, save for the one in the middle. I saw he was off duty because he had the uniform, but his bike seemed, ya know, not police standard. No lights or symbols. Anyway, I was waiting for a ticket or something, but no… Just a precaution and “You should get that check out.” Dread sets in.
Earlier today, at work and not working, I looked into whole sale Nissan parts. I now understand why it’ll cost $1600 to get my car fixed. The fuel injector is $120. And I need four of them. The head gasket, if I’m reading it correctly, and I’d like to think that I am, is only about $20. And from what I saw, it didn’t look anything like what I thought a gasket was. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a gasket before. So if I saw it laying in front of me right now… nothing. Sort’ve like the drive shaft that fell off of the pick-up truck I was driving years ago. I had no idea what it was. Just a long pole looking thing that shouldn’t be detached from where it was.
My other woes were just frustrated people on the phone making me a little frustrated. There’s no point in explaining what was wrong, let’s just say I worked in the shoe department, and she needed the clothes department. However, (and I don’t really care) I may some how been able to help had I known more about serious fashion styles and the inner workings of things… but all I need to know and worry about is shoes.
Meanwhile, my co-workers had little issues here and there, but I only help when I’m asked. I feel like i’m butting in, unless of course they are openly talking about the issue at hand. But something a little irritating is when someone asks me a question, then I answer, then they ask someone else as if my answer wasn’t good enough. If you don’t want my help, don’t ask! Sigh. Let me calm down. I need to make some phone calls and get my parents a little getaway that I know I’ll be needing soon.
By the way, anyone have like $1000 to just GIVE me? It’s not for my car. It’s for everything else that has an extended hand waiting to go fishing around in my pockets.