...Not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at...

Yesterday, I'm sitting at a light, in the process of driving my car around aimlessly for 20 minutes so that a) my battery can recharge (it was dead yesterday morning) and b) the flat tire that I'd just pumped full of fix-a-flat can fix itself (have I mentioned the awesome love affair I have with my cars?), my head is completely clogged up from the stupid virus I've had for the past week, and I'm hacking like the little whooping cough kid who shows up on the Simpsons every once in a while, my lungs about ready to come crawling out of my mouth and bitchslap me for kicking the shit out of them, coughing so hard that my chin and neck are surely wobbling uncontrollably like some sweaty 500 lb. man, coughing so hard that little bits of spittle are spraying in a fine mist over my steering wheel, and the dude in the car next to me (who had way too high a voice for someone trying to mack on somebody else from their car window) goes to me, as the light turns green, "Hellooooooo there, sexy," with absolute seriousness (had he been joking and poking fun at my complete sick grossness, I think I might've turned and grinned the shit outta him in appreciation, but this was 100% seriousness) and I just thought, This is my life?

I then finished the rest of my drive and returned home to Crazy Electric Guitar Neighbor jamming out on his balcony with his crazy Sammy Hagar-esque riffs for the whole neighborhood to enjoy. And I thought, Yes. Yes it certainly fucking is.



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