The cat -- the FUCKING cat -- knocked a necklace and my watch down the drain of the bathroom sink sometime last night. The necklace was retrievable; the watch I could see, lying in the trap, under water. I had no wrench. It's water resistant, not waterproof. I left it there, stormed around the apartment swearing and slamming things and being physically abusive to the FUCKING cat, and leave for work.
I was running late anyway. I get in my car and drive and the car feels funny. Eventually I pull over to the shoulder and it's my right front tire, it's flat. At about this time Mitchell calls to tell me that he's retrieved my watch. Very nice, but my tire is flat. I yell at him because there's no one else around to yell at (I should have brought the FUCKING cat with me). He says that he will come out, to help. But as soon as I get off the phone, a van from the NJDOT pulls up behind me and a guy gets out and he's going to change my tire for me. I call Mitch back to tell him not to come, and the guy does his thing, and I'm on my way, and I get in before 8:30. Whew! I was worried about missing work a little bit. Sure glad THAT didn't happen.
So Mitch, thanks for fishing my watch out of the drain, and sorry for yelling. And thanks for being willing to come out and help me with the tire. Though I regret that I was going to accept his help. I'm a big girl, and I'm not wearing a skirt or anything today; I should have been willing to change the tire myself. Next time.
I have to go to a stupid meeting now.