Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Being a Grown Up

I did a very grown up thing today.  I took my car in to be serviced the moment (well close to the moment) I noticed something was wrong.  This is coming from the girl who's check engine light has been on since her birthday, a year ago.  I think part of the reason I may have done it was because it was making an ungodly noise.  The front brakes when applied would just make this TERRIBLE grinding sound.  I could swear that everyone in a twenty foot radius could hear it, but apparently it was all in my car.  So I made an appointment for the moment the dealership opened this morning (at 7, so I wouldn't be late for work) and I was the first one in line.  They also had a free shuttle which was awesome because then I didn't have to bother anyone for a ride.  BONUS.  Well sort of, because the shuttle driver (bless his little heart) didn't know his way around Dallas at all, and ended up taking the guy who lived out in Plano home first, so I didn't actually get to work until around 8:30, 8:45. The point is that I TRIED not to be late for work.  AND I also have enough money to pay for the repairs myself! They had to replace the brake pads and the rotors, and they changed the oil for me, which is great.  They also probably washed it for me, because my dealership is kind of awesome like that.  But yeah, I feel very grown up for taking care of my issues.  Plus I found out some more stuff that needs to get fixed (not right away, but eventually) so now I can faction those into my budget.  I feel very responsible.


On yesterday,  I am terribly saddened by the horrible incidents in Boston.  To target something that is clearly a non-political, non-threatening occurance is heartless and cruel.  My heart goes out to all the people affected, and to my beloved Boston.  I know that people will continue to pull together and show whoever did this that we will not be frightened.  That's the real goal, fear.  And I know that we will not sucumb to it.  God Bless you Boston and Bostonians.  You rock.

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