The Party's Over

For those of you who couldn't tell, my mom was the anonymous commenter on my last post. As she said, I was having a Pity Party when I wrote that post, feeling pretty sorry for myself. But as she guessed, the party didn't last very long. After Koreena said that my problems made her feel guilty for having a hard time being thankful, I realized that compared to someone else my problems would be NOTHING. Seriously, my cars were only broken, not totaled. Nathan was sick, not dead. At least I was married and able to have an anniversary not turn out how I'd planned. So I only felt sorry for myself for a few hours, but I waited to write another post because I wanted to be able to give an update.

UPDATE
The cars are both fixed. My car had a miscommunication between the plasma-warp conduit and the intergalactic phaser manifold . . . or some other gobble-dee-gook explanation that basically meant a wiring problem. On Nathan's car it was the starter. The good news is I had misunderstood our insurance policy which limited us to $100 per roadside assistance incident, but didn't limit the number of incidents. (Thank goodness.) So when the same tow truck driver showed up I handed him my keys. "Same place?" he asked, with just the tiniest grin that I really can't blame him for. (Definitely going to have to add him to the Christmas list.) He was willing to tow it for $100 so we didn't have to pay for either towing. The bad news is our cars cost over $550 to fix. Five hundred smackers? Oh sure, I carry that kind of small change around all the time . . . uh, must have left it in my diamond-encrusted clutch that I didn't bring because it didn't match my Cheerio-encrusted outfit. (Thanks, Annalee.) But not to worry, I'll just ask my little friend to spot me the dough. Visa?

Hurry up, Tax Refund!

Nathan is feeling better. He was able to go to work yesterday--my brother gave him a ride.

And speaking of family, you all knew I was joking about that "out of germ-distance" thing, right? My moment of light-heartedness in the face of depressing trial will cost me years of "remember when you said" and "would you like some emotional support?" So everlasting is my punishment that it would plague my seed unto the third and fourth generation if only my parents weren't so in love with their grandkids.

For the record, although my parents (understandably) did not want to catch whatever Nathan had, they provided lots of support: emotional, phone, and otherwise. They offered advice on how to get our cars towed, gave us rides to and from the repair shop, took me to the grocery store, and let us know that if we were without a car for very long we could probably borrow one of theirs. They are so awesome!

Thanks, too, to all those who offered assistance to us. We have the best friends!