I dreamed last night that I was driving down the highway and my tire popped. Literally, like a balloon. So I had to pull over and no one would come help me. And that was the end of that.

So this morning, I had to talk myself into going to work. My allergies are killer and I haven't slept in like three days. But I'm a good girl, so I went. Or I intended to go. I had a flat tire. Different tire than in the dream, but the same result. Car no go. But I was totally not surprised. It's not like I expected to go out there and find a flat tire, but it wasn't at all surprising that there was one if that makes sense. I'm psychic. TJ asked if I remembered running over something and that's why I dreamed it. But my conscious doesn't recall such a thing. But maybe my subconscious does and just isn't keeping the rest of me informed. Or, maybe I really am psychic. It could happen. I mean, Miss Cleo does it. Or did it, before she went to prison anyways.

Anyways, I can't change a tire to save my life. I thought for a second that I'd give it a go, but it was raining, and who am I kidding? I don't do tires. So the fine folks at Bud's Wrecker Service helped me out. Thanks Bud.

Posted by blueostrich at 11:24 AM
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