Up until 10:30 a.m., I thought my blog entry was going to revolve entirely around a douchey kid from a lunch visit.
Him: What are your cutoffs?
Me: Well, we don't have cutoffs, but--
Him: Then you're not a prestigious university.
Me: Bitch, what?
He also wanted to know how many parties there are every night. I wanted to tell him to check facebook.
Then, at 10:15 I left my lunch visit (I can't believe how early high schools eat) and began the hour-long commute to my next school. At 10:30 I pulled onto the shoulder of the turnpike with a flat tire. Yup. So, being the mature professional that I am, I start making phone calls to figure out who I should call because, as one counselor told me at the beginning of the semester, AAA doesn't work in New Jersey. As it turns out, the other counselor lied. Because the turnpike is a government-contracted road... something or other that I didn't listen to because I still got my tire fixed by a very nice man named Ralph who achieved the impossible of calling me both "babe" and "darling" without me wanting to punch him in the gonads.
Of all the days for this to happen, this one was pretty ideal; I only missed one appointment in the afternoon, and no kids had signed up, anyway. So when my tire was fixed around 1:00, I drove to the school and met with the counselor even though I was basically a zombie at that point. (I really worry about the fundamental attribution error in this case... I was off my game because it was an exhausting morning, but she probably thinks I'm normally a zombie.) However, I enjoyed an unexpectedly serene hour reading my book on the highway as semis barreled past me honking their horns.
Did I mention that as I left the final school visit my check oil light came on? I doubt my car believes me, but I was actually already going to get an oil change this afternoon anyway. So now my car has a brand new tire, fresh oil, half a tank of gas, and a guilty owner who will probably buy it air fresheners and dashboard trinkets to win back its affection. It only needs to last a few more weeks...
I do feel the need to point out that when I ranoverthecatbyaccident a few weeks ago, it was mere days before visiting with my friend Keri. Today, when my car virtually fell into disrepair as I plodded through my Joyce Carol Oates novel (since I had heard of her as this fabulous author but could never actually name a single thing she has written), it is mere days before I trek to Pittsburgh to see Keri and what will hopefully become our new residence. I leave it to you to draw conclusions.