>What the hell is this??

>I have a blog? Holy shit!

Yeah, I know. Don’t start. I’ve had…stuff…going on.


Found myself in a bit of a pickle this morning. I got ready for work, walked out the front door, keys in hand, water bottle in tow.

Fiddled through the menagerie of keys that is my keychain, located the one with the black top and the Jeep logo on it, poised and ready to unlock the driver’s side door.

Alas, there was no driver’s side door.
There was no steering wheel.
Not even a drop of windshield wiper fluid remained.

Terror struck. My car was gone. Some piece of shit bastard had stolen my 1996 Jeep Cherokee with white latex primer spilled all over the rear bumper (don’t ask…) and a variety of hiking trail permits adhered to the windshield.

As I made preparations to explode in a frenzy of full-blown panic, a moment of clarity struck.

Cut to:

Last night, my apartment.

Bryan and I had plans to meet some friends for dinner. We were meeting them in Bellevue. Bryan works just a hop-skip-and-a-jump from our culinary destination so it was decided that rather than make the 30+ minute drive all the way back home to pick me up that I would drive to his place of employment, park in the employee parking lot, then leave for the restaurant together.

One problem.

The two of us failed to realize that when we left the restaurant that we were indeed in the same car. Hence my missing vehicle this morning.

As of 2pm I still have yet to retrieve my missing vehicle. I was home early from work, even. (Chauffeured to and from by my equally forgetful husband who decided to work from the ‘Snoqualmie Office’ today.)

I am, at the moment, cozied up at my computer clad in an interesting juxtaposition of my satin pajama top and plaid flannel pajama bottoms. I am uœber-hot. But now I must drag my sorry self up out of this chair, get outta my evil jammies, put some decent clothes on and leave with Bryan to retreive my vehicle. What a pain in the ass this is. I suppose it would be unfeasable for him to attempt this task solo. Thus I go.

Voulez-voulez-vous pain in the ass.

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