Zzzzzzzz--oh! Is mom's computer finally ready? I logged on in 1712.
I know I never complain about the slowness of this computer. And in general, I have such patience. Instant gratification takes too long.
Anyway, I'm here. I drove straight through. And do you know what I had? Was a lack of ridiculousness on that drive.
I decided to get the oil changed before I left, seeing as I was gonna drive 730 miles and such. The last time the oil had been changed was when Marvin still lived with me; he did all the car things.
So I'm sitting there at the Jiffy Lube, and I thought, you know what I should do? Is check how much money I have. I thought I had about $600 to my name, which was gonna be more than enough for gas and a room, should I not make the whole drive.
$138.
That's what I had in checking. A HUNDRED THIRTY-EIGHT DOLLARS.
Do you know who has a tight grip on her finances? Is your pal Money Wizard June, here. Once I perused my account, it made sense. Oh, yeah, I had my roots done. Oh yeah, the emergency vet bill. Oh, right! The lacy bra that was $58.
You know, once you start spending money you chip away at the $600 you were thinking was in there, like an unmoving lump.
Money tips. By June. I am so starting a new segment of this blog.
This $138 cash flow influenced my decision to not stop at a hotel, and also to have a Peanut Buster Parfait for dinner.
So I'm screaming along through 86 states to get home, and I had stopped a few times: for gas, to a rest stop, to get that Peanut Buster Parfait, and I noticed my seat felt kind of, I don't know, sticky.
"Wow, these pants feel like a leather seat," I thought, continuing my vein of smartness.
Edsel had chewed a giant hole in the buttockal/girl parts region of my yoga pants. The yoga pants all the men at Jiffy Lube saw. Basically it was a whole June's Vagina Exposed tour.
I had to pull over, drag my exposed sugar walls to the trunk, get out a skirt, and do the whole "slip on the skirt/slip off the stupid half-eaten yoga pants" move.
I abhor Edsel.
After that I decided I needed caffeine as a reward, and yes I AM supposed to not drink caffeine. Shut up.
I bought the coffee, left the coffee on the counter because I was busy reading emails, had to go BACK INSIDE and get my coffee while the coffee woman--who had star tattoos on the side of her face--laughed at ME, and get in my car.
Fourteen seconds later I spilled the coffee all down the front of my white tank top. I looked like poor Jackie Kennedy's suit when they swore in Lyndon Baines Johnson.
So basically? Fun trip. Good times. Relaxing. I did find a channel on my Sirius radio that is an all-book channel, but they read one book for an hour and you get all into it and they read another book the next hour. Chaps my hide. Well. My exposed buttocks on my hot leather seat is what chapped my hide technically, but still.
The wedding is at 6:00, so maybe I better start worrying about that. It's only eight hours away. Gotta primp.
After all, it's my day.
