Not only do I hate driving, I hate cars and everything to do with them. On my way in to work today, my little red neon lost its power steering. Not that big of a deal, except that it meant I had to turn the wheel really hard. At lunch, I went to Target to see if I could add power steering fluid and fix the problem.
It took me about five minutes to find the power steering fluid and then as I was taking the cap off the reservoir in the car, it slipped out of my fingers and fell down into the engine compartment, getting stuck.
I have a very generous 45-minute lunch break, that at this point, was slipping away from me. I called into work and told them I would be back late, then, at Nathan's suggestion, went back into Target to buy something long and slender, with which to knock the cap out of the car onto the ground. I found camping forks.
It took quite a while because at first I just knocked the cap farther down so it was resting on the axle. Then a nice gentleman stopped and asked if he could help. After a few more minutes fighting with the cap, I finally knocked it onto the ground and he pushed my car back for me so I could get the cap.
An afternoon of phone calls followed, trying to figure out what to do about the car. In the end I drove it to our mechanic in DeKalb where my in-laws (whom I love) picked me up and drove me to Pecatonica (which is pronounced how it looks) where I borrowed my grandmother's car. I did not return home until 9:38.
I sincerely hope that when I make it to Heaven, there is no driving.
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