Twenty

7:19 a.m.

The weekend was fleeting and I want it back.

It's not a good thing when you often secretly cry a little bit while thinking about going in to work.

Hopefully this, too, will pass.

Three weeks (twenty days) until Justin and I get out of here for Christmas. I'm really looking forward to Christmas. Seeing my family. I miss my family. Justin will meet my sister and brother and aunts and uncles for the first time. Justin will see the town where I grew up for the first time. Justin will eat my mom's cooking for the first time. Justin will witness me jumping on Sister's bed for the first time. I love my family. And we both need a break. The stress/tension from work is killing me here, and Justin's had quite the semester. A relaxing, calm, happy Christmas. Christmas with my family, New Year's with his. I don't know that New Year's will be "calm" but we are guaranteed a lot of alcohol. And it will be consumed.

And!

I get my new(er) hand-me-down car.

Which I think about gleefully every day.

Because the Jeep and I are in a fight, and I don't think it's gonna end prettily.

STOP LETTING YOUR DOORS FREEZE SHUT EVERY DAY WHILE I AM AT WORK. I'M TALKING TO YOU, TOO, WYOMING WEATHER.

Friday night I was trying to get out of the Jeep and the driver's side door had frozen shut again, but the passenger side opened. So I hoisted myself up to get over the console between the two front seats, not noticing the sunglass holder in the ceiling had opened (because I never use you, you jerk), and banged my forehead into it's sharp little plastic corner. Which knocked me back into the driver's seat and possibly made everything go gray for a few seconds. Then I crawled out and went inside to see that I had a nice little bruise/t-shaped cut on my forehead that was bleeding.

I hate you, Jeep.

HATE.

YOU.

(Then we went bowling with eighty million writers. I got a turkey, and a score over 100 the first time in my life.) (The next game I got a 50.)

(That's fairly uninteresting, but I was so excited. Three strikes! In a row! Possibly I need a head injury every time I bowl, but only...for the first game?)

When I was called in to work on Saturday, I was a little late because after I parked I realized all the doors had frozen shut and I was stuck, stuck, stuck. After much frantic shoving and bumping and pleading with the Jeep gods, I finally got the passenger side open.

The Jeep's days are numbered.

That number is twenty.

Work work work,
black sheep